What Belongs to Me
by Dream's Light
Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize. Read warnings!
1. Whispers from the Shadows

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

Rating: M

_AN: This story expands on the plot begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC will give you extra insights. Thanks so much for your patience in waiting for this story to get started. Later chapters have been evolving along lines I wasn't expecting so I've had to rewrite the first chapter and I think it makes for a better tale._

What Belongs to Me_ was born after I finished the first draft of _The Maoh's Last Command_. I asked myself a question: would a man like Gregor von Hanreid give up easily when it came to getting what he wanted? I didn't think so._

_Rated M for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or if this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 1: Whispers from the Shadows**

_**Fifty Years Earlier**_

Wolfram dodged through the forest of legs that were the people packing bags and boxes and shifting luggage and doing all of the tasks that meant they were finally leaving this place and going home. Everyone was too busy to notice him, which frankly he didn't mind. He was sick of being stared at and told to do the Maoh proud or stand up straight – even though he wasn't slouching – or be on your best behavior so you don't embarrass the Maoh. He was tired of being what everyone else wanted him to be.

What he wanted was a place where he could be himself until it was time to go.

But every room he peeked into had busy people in it. Frustration had built to the point of an explosion when he at last found a sanctuary.

Mouth round with awe, Wolfram walked into what must have been Lord von Hanreid's library. The room had eight sides and seven of the walls were shelves from floor to ceiling, and each shelf was stuffed with books and scrolls. The wall right across from the door was a stone fireplace almost as big as the one in the main hall of Blood Pledge Castle. The mantle was held up by silently roaring stone dragons with great big fangs. A nice warm fire burned on the hearth and cast dancing shadows of the two winged chairs in front of it onto the big woven rug that covered the dark hardwood floors.

Best of all, it was empty.

Wolfram pushed the door shut behind him and ran over to the right hand dragon. It looked so real! He had to stand on tiptoe to put his hand in the beast's mouth. He giggled at the thought of doing that to an actual dragon. Gunter would have a fit and Mother would lock him in his room for a year if he ever tried something like that. He didn't want to think about the reactions of Big Brother or Little Big Brother.

He traced the intricate scale pattern carved in the dragon's chest. Wolfram really liked dragons. Maybe he'd ask Mother if he might have dragons carved into the fireplace in his bedroom.

Stepping back, he started exploring. The books he was able to reach were all thick with gold leaf words on the spine, most of them long and unfamiliar to him. He tried spelling them out and sounding them out the way Gunter had taught him to do with new words, but it didn't help. He snorted in disappointment. He ought to have known old Hanreid had a boring library.

Wolfram didn't like him at all and was glad his mother wasn't showing any signs of pursuing him as a possible new father for him. He was handsome enough and always smiled at him and treated him nicely and gave him treats and all. But the smile never reached his eyes. One summer Wolfram got into the gardens before the attendants where he found a squirrel fallen from a tree. When he picked it up to take to Julia for healing, he realized that the poor thing had died. The heat of the sun had made the body deceptively warm, but the eyes betrayed its true state. When Wolfram looked at Lord von Hanreid, he thought of that dead squirrel.

And that wasn't the only creepy thing about him. If he wasn't in a meeting with his mother and Uncle Stoffel, he always seemed to be watching him. At dinner or walking in the garden or in a hallway, the hair on the back of his neck would stand up and he'd turn around to find von Hanreid watching him with a smile on his face. Lots of people stared at him. Mother said that it was because he was beautiful and that he'd be a catch when he grew up, whatever that meant. Only Lord von Hanreid's empty-eyed stare made him feel bad.

Wolfram was so glad they were going home.

He trailed his finger along the spines of books as he circled the room. With a happy "Hah!" he found a botany book. He might not know all the words but at least it had illustrations. Wolfram pulled the heavy tome from its place and carried it over to one of the wing chairs. Settling in, he began flipping through the pages, ticking off on his hand the plants he recognized.

"_Wolfram."_

Wolfram looked up, expecting to see one of the servants come to fetch him for his mother. But the room was still empty.

"_Wolfram."_

The voice wasn't coming from anywhere, he realized. It was inside his head. Curious, Wolfram closed the book, wedged it up against the chair arm so it didn't fall on the floor and got to his feet.

"Hello?"

"_Over here."_

He spun around, trying to figure out where "here" was. A very faint whooshing noise drew his eye to the fireplace and he watched amazed as one of the dragons turned on one edge to reveal a secret passage.

"Wow!"

Inside the dark passage revealed, Wolfram made out the pale grinning face of a boy about his age with freckles and red hair. He was the first child Wolfram had seen in all the time they'd been here.

"Hi! What are you doing in there?"

"We're playing. Come play with us!"

Wolfram hesitated. It was one thing to hide in an unoccupied room, quite another to hide in the walls.

The other boy winked at him with a gap-toothed grin. _"It's more fun when there are lots of us."_ His gaze darted to the closed door and he added, _"Hurry before He gets here!"_

Wolfram had a pretty good idea who "He" was and with a shrug darted into the wall just before the dragon door closed and the library door opened.

-o0O0o-

Lord Gregor von Hanreid walked quietly down the hall, his steps soft as a cat stalking a mouse. Word had reached him that the young prince had taken refuge in his library from the inevitable chaos involved in preparing the Maoh's party to move on to its next stop. One of the few rooms in his manor that had only one entrance, it was perfect for their accidental encounter.

For the three days of the visit, he had found and created every possible opportunity to be in the boy's presence without raising his mother's suspicions. Hanreid had been enchanted by young Wolfram the first time his eyes beheld perfection as Wolfram entered the ballroom during his older brother's coming of age celebration.

Most of the party guests came only as an obligation to the Maoh and showed no more than courteous interest in the middle son. Even if Conrart Weller had been full Mazoku, little Wolfram would have upstaged him. He drew everyone's attention, even has he obviously tried to stay in the background for his brother's sake. Hanreid had introduced himself to the child, who ducked away from him to cling to his mother's skirts and hide his face.

Celi Heika had gushed over how unusually shy her baby was being, how normally her "Wolvie" was the life of any gathering. He had assured her that he took no offense and moved on to share pointless conversation with someone he barely knew.

But that was the moment: when prey recognized predator.

When his goal shifted from making himself Celi's next consort to claiming her son as his own.

His plans solidified when the first credible rumors of human unrest reached him via his spies in the human lands. Hanreid ordered the immediate stockpiling of grain, beans, canvas, everything a mobilized army might need. He made contracts for the exclusive service of mercenaries, and built up his own personal troop roster. All he did from that moment had been to position him for this day.

So when Stoffel met privately with him, Hanreid had been the power in their bargaining. He patted his chest where an inner pocket held his copy of the marriage contract. Certainly he'd have to wait for the boy to reach his majority, but the best part of a feast was the anticipation. And, he smiled to himself as he gently turned the knob on the library door and slipped inside, the taste snuck behind the cook's back. He locked it behind him and bore carefully down on the sitting area.

A slow rage burned in his chest when he realized the boy had already gone, leaving one of his books discarded in his chair.

-o0O0o-

The wagons and carriages were packed, everyone ready to go, but the caravan was going nowhere.

No one had seen Wolfram all morning and Celi began to worry when half an hour of searching didn't turn up with any word. Although he insisted that he was old enough to take care of himself, Wolfram was her baby, very likely the last child she would ever have. With both Gwendal and Conrart taking up adult duties, sometimes far from home, it eased some of her anxiety to have her youngest son close and safe.

She gazed up at von Hanreid's manor house, a cheerfully bright structure with flowering vines climbing the white stone walls. The staff did a good job maintaining it and, so far from human territories and rumors of war, the people here still lived normal lives. She hadn't stayed in so peaceful a place in years.

Still, something about the place sent dread shuddering through her. After only the first day, the stories and gossip whispered at court about von Hanreid and his haunted manor held more credence, at least for her. No one else though seemed to notice anything amiss. Perhaps her unease was just a reaction to her negative response to von Hanreid himself. Celi didn't like the man, plain and simple. The longer she spent in his company, the louder the alarm her instincts sounded.

The minute they found Wolfram and set off for home was days late as far as she was concerned.

Her brother, standing nervously with von Hanreid on the entry steps grumbled, "Really, sister, he proves himself more your son every day." Stoffel turned his patently false smile on von Hanreid. "Celi too has never met a clock."

Their host laughed politely while Celi seethed inside. This was no time for banter. What if Wolfram was hurt or worse?

Lord von Hanreid patted her shoulder in reassurance. Celi barely controlled her flinch. "Fear not, Heika. My home is perfectly safe. And there is much to catch a young one's attention. I'm sure your brother's right, he's likely enjoying one of my distractions and lost track of time."

Gunter's arrival saved her from coming up with the expected lie that she believed him. Ignoring protocol, Celi rushed to him, hands outstretched. "Have you found him?"

"Yes, Heika," the tall swordsman gave her a real smile of assurance as he caught and gently squeezed her fingers. "We think young Wolfram went to the stable with apples for his horse, got too comfortable, and fell asleep. He's with my daughter now."

"Gisela?" The young healer that Gunter had adopted had been added to their party at Lady Julia's suggestion, so the girl had her first practical experience as a healer under kinder circumstances than the coming war would provide. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious, Your Majesty," he told her, "just a bit of fever. Gisela says he'll be fine and making a nuisance of himself again this time tomorrow."

Relief swept through her like a tidal wave. "Thank you, Gunter." Releasing him, she turned back to her brother and von Hanreid. "I thank you for your gracious hospitality these last days, Lord von Hanreid. I hope someday to return the favor." Not likely.

Hanreid gave her a deep, graceful bow. "I shall look forward to that day."

Celi strode quickly down the courtyard to the center of their caravan where the healer's wagon had been positioned. She sent distracted smiles to the soldiers and servants who saluted and bowed as she passed. A footman waited to hand her up. Inside, Gisela sat on the padded bench with Wolfram resting against her chest as she helped him drink from a glass of water. The fever had put a deep flush in his cheeks and sweat darkened his gold-bright hair.

"How is he?"

The green-haired girl set her mind at ease. "Better. I worried when the groomsman said they couldn't wake him when they discovered him curled up in the straw of an empty stall. His maryoku is very low. I can't explain it, but it's why he's so tired now. With rest, he'll be fine."

Celi caught up her son's limp hand, massaging the palm with her thumb. "He certainly didn't call his fire in the stables, we'd have heard about that pretty quickly."

"… wasn't in stable…"

Wolfram's sleepy mutter took her the rest of the way to relieved. "It's alright, baby. Go back to sleep. We'll be leaving here soon."

"Good. Don't like him … other children … don't either…."

"Children?"

He nodded as she and Gisela stretched him out on the wagon bench and tucked the blanket around him. "The boy came to the library. We went through the dragon and played in the walls. Then," he yawned wide and wiggled until he was comfortable, "the sad lady came … and I was … here."

With that he fell deeply into sleep.

Celi arched an eyebrow at the young healer. "Went through the dragon?"

Gisela chuckled, "Fever dreams can be very vivid but quickly forgotten. He likely won't remember a thing when he wakes up."

She took up her place on the floor beside her son, heedless of her finery. "I never saw any children around von Hanreid's manor. Did he have them sequestered during our visit?"

"I asked one of the maids. There aren't any here," Gisela told her as she secured her supplies for the journey. "It seems Lord von Hanreid considers children too noisy and fussy. Only single people and childless couples serve on his staff."

"How sad. A home is happiest with children."

Wolfram slept the entire trip back to Blood Pledge Castle. Celi stayed at his side in the healer's wagon refusing to move him to the comfort of the royal carriage as Stoffel kept insisting until the last rest stop before home. By then, Wolfram's fever had broken and he was snoring softly. Celi knew then moving him wouldn't disturb his slumber. They rode the rest of the way in silence, Wolfram wrapped in a blanket and cradled on her lap and Stoffel across from her looking distracted and darting glances at Wolfram's sleeping face.

Celi pressed the back of her hand to Wolfram's cheek to find it noticeably cooler. As Gisela promised, the long sleep was all he needed. By the time they reached home, she felt sure he'd be over the worst of the fever and no doubt wake as spry and curious as ever in the morning.

Still unease shadowed her heart. Something strange hung over the von Hanreid estate and her intuition told her it had touched her little boy. As the footman approached to help her down from the carriage, Celi promised herself this was the first and last time she or any of her family ever visited Hanreid and its disturbing lord.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid watched through the magicked glass as the boy explored his room with awed amazement. The child had been living here in what for him must be heaven for three days now with only he and his sorcerer aware of his presence. An orphaned beggar his agents brought to him from the human territories, he had never seen anything so fine in his short life and likely didn't have the imagination to even conceive of the possibility of such riches. The wonder in his bright eyes added to his appeal.

Blue eyes. A frown marred Hanreid's handsome face briefly. He'd asked for green eyes.

"Can you fix the eye color?"

Beside him, his sorcerer nodded inside the hood of his dark purple cloak, "But it wastes magic better used elsewhere."

"How so?"

"The boy has no magic of his own that I can use to fuel the spell. Without it, I must use a large amount of my own houryoku to construct a façade that will fail rather quickly, certainly before you can be satisfied. However, I can cast a spell on you to let you see what you want to see."

'Nice try, magic man,' he thought with satisfaction. They never stopped playing this game, each seeking to gain leverage over the other. 'Too bad for you I am master of my vices, not the other way around.'

"I'll make do. Tell my agents there's a substantial bonus for green eyes."

"Yes, My Lord."

Did he imagine the frustration in the cultured voice? "You'd best prepare. I'll wait fifteen minutes."

The taller man bowed again, "I'll be ready," and turned to leave.

"Oh, before you go, I want plans made to prepare a special suite for my husband when I bring him home. My wolf cub has formidable powers and will have military as well as magical training by then." Hanreid jabbed a finger at the secret room holding the human boy. "This magic cage of yours won't hold him as easily as it has the others we've brought here."

The spellcaster kept his head down but Hanreid sensed the adrenaline surge that the man always experienced when he challenged him to find new ways to use his twisted magic.

"I'm sure I can come up with something that will serve, my lord." Through the hood-cast shadows, Hanreid saw the eyes brighten and the lips warp into an unaccustomed smile. "I will need subjects to experiment on, both human and Mazoku, preferably with elemental contracts."

"Do whatever it takes. Once I have him, I must be able to keep him."

"As you command." The sorcerer departed, his passage making no sound.

Hanreid turned back to his one-way mirror to watch the boy ease into the private bath, watching him luxuriate in the bubbles until enough time had gone by to allow the sorcerer to reach his position before slipping through the secret entrance to extract from their prey the first payment for his new life of luxury.

-o0O0o-

_**Twenty-Five Years Earlier**_

Marissa Linden sat before her mirror while her maid brushed out her chestnut hair for the last time. The older woman shed the tears she was not allowed.

"How can your father have agreed to marry you off to that man? They don't call him the Shadow Groom for nothing."

"Father has his reasons, Heidi."

And such reasons. Her brother's warped vices had finally brought the disaster her late mother, and she herself, had warned her father about for years. But Lars was their father's darling boy who did no wrong, despite the evidence. Well this time there was plenty of evidence that included a bloody body and a powerful witness who wanted something they had.

What worried her was that she didn't know exactly what her new husband wanted. Oh, she was pretty enough and considered a catch in her own circles, but Lord Gregor von Hanreid traveled in realms far above her station. She had contracted with fire but her gift wasn't enough to gain her notice let alone the kind of acclaim that caught the eyes of the nobility. Her family was well off – a producing iron mine and some of the best farmland in the region – but nowhere near as rich as any of von Hanreid's previous spouses had been, nor did they have the highest status in the merchant class.

What she knew of nobles told her they did nothing without some kind of gain in mind, often on multiple levels.

All too soon they were done. Heidi tied off her braid and carefully placed the forest green hat adorned with peacock feathers and a fishnet veil at a fashionable angle. Marissa pulled the veil down over her face and stood.

"It's time to go."

The woman who raised her from her sixty-seventh year hugged her tight, "If only I were going with you!"

Marissa returned it with equal fervor. "My Lord Husband assures me he has plenty of servants to tend to my every need. I'll write as often as I can. You do the same."

"Even if I can only send once in a while, I'll write every day and send the letters in lots. I'll miss you, my angel."

"Take care of yourself. I'll come and visit as soon as I can."

Marissa picked up her personal satchel, straightened her spine, and left her room for the last time to begin married life, blissfully unaware that she would never see her family again.

-o0O0o-

_**Four Years Earlier**_

He knew his sorcerer had come to his office and stood in the doorway waiting for permission to enter. Hanreid finished reading Marissa's latest attempt to contact the outside world before he looked up to acknowledge his presence.

"Well?"

"Your lady wife delivered a healthy baby girl," he reported without a hint of emotion in his face. "The mother is weary but healthy."

Excellent! "Then we are ready."

"Yes, My Lord. The imprisoning spell and conception potions are in balance. They can hold him and allow the healthy birth of your son when the time comes."

"Finally. I was beginning to wonder if you knew what you were doing."

The sorcerer stiffened at the insult. Hanreid smiled at him.

"What we are attempting has never been done before. You must expect delays, failures. The road to success is rarely short or without obstacles."

"Be grateful this breeding worked." His voice had gone hard. "I have no more time to catch another spouse for you to play with. Which reminds me," Hanreid tapped the sheet of paper he'd been reading. "You need to do a better job of screening our new staff. Marissa managed to get a note to one of the cleaning women asking that it be delivered to her old nursemaid. Want to hear what my precious wife has to say?"

Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to hear every word.

_Dearest Heidi: I pray that this reaches you. The young maiden I have entrusted with this letter is new and not yet aware of all the rules my so-called husband uses to imprison me. The letters you have gotten from me were dictated by my husband in his attempts to keep the truth hidden. All my attempts to send you letters from my own hand he has intercepted, and his wrath at what he calls my defiance of him is terrible to behold. Please give her sanctuary and do not allow her to return here. Her fate if she returns is not to be thought about._

_Life here at Hanreid was pleasant enough at first. He gave me my own majestically accoutered suite, but from the first night I knew something was wrong. I sleep but do not wake rested. Shadows and echoing voices fill my dreams. I cannot understand what they say but I sense the fear. I share it._

_When word reached us of the attack and Father and Lars' deaths, the look on his face, oh Heidi, I knew in that moment I had been bound to a monster. From that day my suite has been my prison where I only see him and his pet sorcerer when they tend me with one goal._

_I have never loved Gregor but somehow he has managed to seed a child in me. From the day that sorcerer of his confirmed I was pregnant, I have been treated like a precious treasure and isolated me from even the staff here. From what I have managed to overhear, he has spread the lie that I am ill and bedridden. Gregor is determined that I bear his child living into this world and in secret. I am terrified for us both. I think this is why he married me, to see if he could get a child on someone who didn't love him. Once he accomplishes that, what use does he have for me or my baby?_

_Please, please send word to my kin. If they will not come to my aid, go to the Maoh's court to plead my case. Do not delay, there is so little time. My only hope lies with you. _

_All my love._

_Marissa._

"She told the girl that she'd been estranged from her family because of our marriage, that I refused to forgive their slight, but she wanted to mend the relationship. Being a romantic, she took to the plot like a duck to water."

"Did you kill the maid?"

"And waste a death? No. My wife was smart enough to seal the letter and maid honest enough not to read it. She has no idea that Marissa is pregnant so is no threat to our plans. I just told her my poor wife's long illness had made her delirious and she had forgotten that the mother she loved died three years ago. Boo hoo. The girl happily gave the letter to me, grateful that I let her keep the gold ring Marissa gave her in payment."

Hanreid slammed the letter down on his desk, watching the spellcaster's involuntary start with satisfaction. "What if the girl had managed to get off the grounds and delivered this letter? We have chance to thank that I intercepted her in the stable before she asked the groomsman if she might ride along on the supply run into town. I don't like it when random factors undermine my control. You know that."

"Yes, My Lord. It won't happen again."

"Good." He tossed the letter onto the fire and watched the paper darken to brown then black as the flames consumed the evidence. The sorcerer remained standing on his imported rug.

"Why are you still here?"

"Your wife and child, how long do you wish to keep them?"

Hanreid thought a moment, considering possible uses for them and discarding them all. "You can have them. So long as I am decently widowed when Celi ceases to be the Maoh and can no longer obstruct my marriage to Wolfram."

-o0O0o-

Rage and hate.

They were all she knew, all she was now. Everything else had drained away over the days that followed her travail. Marissa knew the moment her baby gave her first cry and saw the twisted grin on the sorcerer's face as he cleaned up the after birth that their days were numbered. The poor babe died of the wasting only days after she was born, never named because as far as the rest of the world was concerned she never existed. She'd given a name to her little daughter in her heart but the wasting stole that from her, as it had taken the rest of her selfhood.

Rage and hate.

For the brother and father who sold her into the hell her life had become in order to save their own lives, only to die at the hands of the humans they despised. Her own death waited on the other side of a ragged breath. Marissa finally accepted that her last desperate attempt to save herself had failed, that there was no hope for a just-in-time rescue.

Rage and hate.

Whenever Gregor and his spellcaster came to measure the progress of their last experiment, Marissa stared at them, engraving on her soul every detail her failing eyes took in. Determined that whatever else she lost, she would keep the knowledge of those two men and what they had done to her. Her husband stood over her now, wanting to witness everything, a cold and empty smile beneath equally cold and empty eyes. Feeding on her misery like some kind of human leech.

Rage and hate.

The voices had left her dreams and surrounded Marissa though her tormentors never seemed to notice. They were her only company in the darkness, poor lost souls, as lost as she soon would be.

Rage and hate.

As her heart began to fail, their words became clearer. When she closed her eyes, they ghosted in the after images behind the lids. When Marissa forced them open again, she often saw them drifting about at some game she didn't know how to play as they waited for her. Helpless tears streamed from her eyes to soak the pillow beneath her head. It hurt. To breath, to struggle, to hold on.

The game stopped and the unseen shadows gathered around her bed, whispering. Marissa tried to concentrate, to make out the rhythmic pulse of their words.

As she dragged in her last breath, Marissa finally understood what they had been saying, the same words over and over, possibly for years, maybe even forever.

Gregor bent closer, his smug expression morphing into a frown.

Darkness swallowed his face and her life, and the words remained.

Rage. Hate.

"Why are you smiling?"

Vengeance.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thank you for reading! Please review!_

_In the next chapter, Yuuri has gone back to Earth, everyone thinks never to return. While only a few weeks passed for Yuuri, more than a year has gone by in the Demon Kingdom. His engagement to Wolfram no longer stands in Hanreid's way. Be here for __**Chapter 2: Miracle Lost**__._


	2. Miracle Lost

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

Rating: M

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_The second question that inspired _What Belongs to Me_ came after I watched the last episode of the second season again a few months back. There's a scene where Wolfram finishes a painting and throws up. What if the reason wasn't the smell of bear bee paint?_

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 2: Miracle Lost**

_**One Year Earlier**_

Hanreid paced while his sorcerer worked his spying spell, tracing runes and arcane symbols on the surface of a shallow basin of water as if it were a mirror. After a bit, the twisted characters began to glow and the water grew cloudy as the spell took hold.

The sorcerer made a gesture in the light rising up from the bowl and murmured something under his breath. Curious, impatient, Hanreid moved to peer over his shoulder.

The cloudiness swam into a cohesive image. A garden full of flowers with a little girl sitting on a stone bench, thin hands folded between her knees, head beat. He growled in frustration.

"I don't care about the human girl. I need to see the Maoh. Until I know more about him, his routines and habits, I cannot plan his death."

"The spell is designed to take us where we need to go," the sorcerer spoke in an oddly serene voice. "That is not necessarily where we _want_ to go."

Hanreid fought the desire to slap respect into the man before him, but he knew better than to disrupt him during a casting. Once was more than enough. It took three coats of whitewash to cover the scorching on the walls of his private study. It was the reason why he now came down to the cavernous workshop beneath his manor when he wanted his magician to cast any kind of working for him.

"I believe, My Lord," that voice interrupted his thoughts, "that this is what the magic wants us to see."

Double glass doors swung open to reveal his wolf cub. Young Wolfram von Bielefeld had grown nicely into the promise of his childhood, gaining in beauty with every day. No doubt when he reached full maturity, he would surpass even his famous mother on that stage. He also took his status as a child of two aristocrat families quite seriously, striving to excel at every task set before him.

From all the reports his various agents and spies had provided over the years, he was a consummate fire wielder, an excellent swordsman, strategist, and scholar. His mother had used education and training in the healing arts to keep out of the thick of the recently ended war, inadvertently making her son even more desirable for him.

Wolfram walked across the garden to sit beside the child Yuuri Heika had adopted. Neither spoke for a while. Wolfram bent to the side, plucked a yellow blossom from the flower bed beside the bench and twirled it between his finger and thumb.

"Everyone is worried about you," he told her softly.

The child kicked at the grass and didn't respond.

"Yuuri didn't want to abandon you, Greta. There just wasn't enough time; otherwise I'm sure he'd never leave without saying goodbye to you. Yuuri loves him very much."

"Then why didn't he stay? We're his family now."

Grief twisted his wolf cub's face. "He has parents in his other world who love him just as much as we do. He really had no choice. I hope in time you can forgive him. And me."

That got the girl to look at him. "You? What for?"

Wolfram smelled the flower then looked her square in the eyes as he confessed, "I convinced him to go. You know our wimp. He follows his heart when he makes decisions without thinking of the consequences. If Yuuri had chosen to stay, his brother Shori and Murata both would have had to stay with him. That would have deprived his parents of both their sons and his world of their next Maoh. Not to mention Murata's family losing their son as well."

"But he left me! Everybody leaves me!"

Gathering the sobbing child in his lap, Wolfram hugged her close, pressing his cheek into the nest of her curls. "I won't, I swear it. And you have your Uncle Gwendal and Uncle Conrart, my mother, and Lady Anissina, and everyone at Blood Pledge Castle. You'll never be alone again, ever."

Her arms went around his waist and the diminished family mourned their loss together.

The vision waivered and the basin once again held nothing but water.

Hanreid looked up to meet the sorcerer's gaze and grinned.

"Good news indeed. The Maoh has obligingly taken himself out of my way." He began pacing as he lined up all the ramifications in his head and played out possible scenarios. "If the Maoh doesn't return in a year, the engagement will be considered abandoned." His smile became a grin. "My engagement contract will once again take precedence, and I can walk into their nest and take what's mine legally. They will have to stand by and let me!"

Just imagining the misery on Lady Celi's face as all her plotting crumbled to ash made his heart race with pleasure. If only he had the power to wish the year here and gone.

The taller man interrupted his thoughts, "My Lord, how do you wish to proceed?"

Reality intruded on the pleasant visions in his head so he put them aside to enjoy later. "This means speeding up the timetable. Will you be able to complete the working in time?"

The hooded head nodded. "I may need more subjects than originally estimated, but I can make the new deadline."

"Then see to it. Whatever it takes, I want it done."

"Yes, Lord Hanreid."

Two years to victory.

-o0O0o-

Gisela pressed her hand to the chest of the young cadet sitting on the edge of the examination table. Jeremy was human, one of the first to join the new blended troops – a legacy of Yuuri Heika – and his excitement showed in the bright eyes and accelerated heartbeat.

"How are you adapting to life at Blood Pledge Castle, Jeremy?"

The boy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Alright, I guess. It's so different from the way things work on our farm back home. I don't think I can judge proper yet."

Good answer, a sign of a working brain between his ears. "Take a deep breath and hold it. Good. Now let it out. How did you come to join up, the recruitment notice?"

"No, ma'am. I took part in a melee at our village midsummer fair. Lord von Bielefeld saw us and told me and a few other lads that he saw something in us he thought he could make something of if we were of a mind to. I'd have come sooner but I had to help my Da with the harvest and arrange for someone to take up my chores and such first."

"Good lad!" Responsible too. Wolfram truly had an eye for recognizing the best recruits. "That's it for you, soldier. All my patients should be in such great shape. Tell your commanding officer you're fit for duty; then get a good meal in your belly. Don't stint," she gave him a teasing wink. "We'll work it off you soon enough."

"Yes, Sarge!" He gave her a sharp salute and hurried off to follow orders.

She shook her head, half rueful, half proud. Not here a week yet and already her reputation had reached the newbies. As Gisela prepared for the next patient, she caught a glimpse of the sun-gold hair of the person she'd been waiting for. She waved to get his attention.

"Wolfram! Over here!"

The bright green eyes tracked to meet her own and the younger man worked his way through the crowded infirmary to her side. Wolfram moved with his usual briskness, but her trained scrutiny found the faint shadows darkening his lower eyelids and the faint pallor beneath the skin of his cheeks.

"Hello, Gisela. One of the message runners said you needed to see me. Not bad news I hope."

"Not so far and there's just this lot to go. I've been following up on my trainees."

It was her longstanding practice to have the new medics and healers write up their diagnoses of patients. Gisela then made the same examination, interviewing the patient, and compared notes with her students. It allowed her to point out shortcuts and errors, discuss treatments and symptom interpretations. She cherished the thrill she experienced when learning something new from her students.

Lady Julia had taught the same way with excellent results.

"Nera was the intern for your physical. How was her bedside manner?"

Wolfram hopped up on the examination table and took off his uniform jacket. "Well enough. She seemed nervous though. Her hands shook a little."

"She's a bit star struck," Gisela teased him, waiting for him to unbutton his shirt before beginning to check his vitals. "A third of my staff is either in awe of you or in love with you."

The fire demon snorted, "They'll get over it when they've known me long enough."

Gisela caught his wrist to measure his pulse. "Any issues with her grasp of the process?"

"No. She left nothing out. She did a couple of the tests twice so she may have an issue with confidence in her mastery, but experience will take care of that."

"I'll be sure to cover it in our review." She made a note in the patient file before continuing."We haven't talked in a while. How are you holding up? Are you sleeping any better?"

He shrugged. "Well enough. It's easier when Greta is there."

"Would you like something to help?"

"No."

Gisela steeled herself to give nothing away if her reading reinforced what she had begun to suspect before placing her palm flat against Wolfram's chest over his heart.

"Conrart misses Yuuri too. Do you talk with him?" the healer asked as she slowly moved her hand down to his lower abdomen.

"Of course," a tint of a blush rose in his cheeks, "but some things I can't discuss with my brother."

Ah. "Well, as your physician and your friend, you can talk to me about anything. I will be what you need to be, and anything you share will be in confidence."

Wolfram's lips gave a small quirky twist. "I appreciate the offer, Gisela, truly. But I wish you and everyone else would stop worrying about me. It's been more than a month and I haven't fallen apart yet."

The healer returned his attempt at a smile as she called light to check his pupil dilation. "Has that uncle of yours eased up on you yet?" Gisela watched the pulse along his throat speed up. Good thing she didn't ask that one during when she was measuring his heart rate. "I take that as a no."

"You're right. I'm worried he's convincing the other Aristocrats. Gwendal told me yesterday that I must start considering the possibility."

That made sense. As long as she'd known the brothers, both he and Conrart had done anything necessary to protect their baby brother. Gwendal would want him to have time to adjust to the idea and come to acceptance before the Ten Aristocrats made the formal request.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't want this."

Wolfram's head shook slowly from side to side. "I can't take Yuuri's place. They have no right to ask that of me. It's not fair, it's not…." He cut himself off before his rising voice pierced the hubbub of the busy infirmary and drew unwanted attention.

Gisela gave his hand a gentle squeeze, hoping she conveyed comfort and her understanding. But frankly, she had been expecting that decision practically from the day Yuuri Heika left their world for the last time. Wolfram grew up in court so the nobles knew him. His education prepared him for rule in times of war and peace. They'd all watched him grow from insecure brat to settled adult willing to give all for his country and King. The people accepted Wolfram as their King's fiancé and heir and likely would object to any other candidate. Most of all, he knew Yuuri better than any of the other potential candidates and believed in Yuuri's dreams for Shin Makoku. Wolfram truly was the best choice.

If only circumstances allowed him time to come to that realization himself.

"So what's the verdict? Did she pass?"

"It's not really a pass/fail situation, but yes, Nera did fairly well. She missed that you're slightly dehydrated, but it's so minimal that I'm not surprised. I'll have to make sure I cover that more thoroughly in the lesson plan," she muttered to herself before continuing. "Your body is also beginning to be affected by sleep deprivation. Come by next week." When Wolfram opened his mouth interrupt her, she added, "No excuses," in the no-nonsense tone that brought many a soldier to heel. "If you haven't improved to my satisfaction, I will prescribe a sleeping potion, and I _will_ see you regularly in the following week to be certain you're taking it. Understood?"

Wolfram nodded, eyes averted.

Typical. She'd talk to Greta if she had to. He'd do anything _she _asked him to.

In fact, the first real sign of life Wolfram had shown since Yuuri and others left was when he helped Greta search for a missing toy. The stuffed creature looked something like a wingless bear bee, a gift from Yuuri, the last as it turned out. They'd looked for days and he'd held her when she was forced to accept the loss.

The little girl loved her "Papa Wolfram." and between them they'd safeguard the stubborn fire wielder's health.

"One last thing," Gisela asked with offhanded casualness. "Lady Anissina is testing a new invention. It's an adaptation of a machine the Great Wise Man described from his world. It identifies illnesses by analyzing small amounts of blood. She needs a broad selection of samples to determine if it's working. I'm asking all my patients to donate samples to see if the machine's diagnoses match mine and my trainees. Are you willing to participate?"

The blond gave her a skeptical look. "I don't have to get into it or anything, will I?"

That surprised a chuckle out of her. "No, I just need to draw a little blood and give you a short physical every couple of weeks for the comparisons."

"That sounds safe enough. Alright, I'll do it."

"Thank you. This will pinch a bit." Gisela swabbed his skin with alcohol and used a hypodermic to draw the necessary amount from his arm into the sample tube. After sealing and labeling it, she set it in the rack with the samples of the other volunteers and announced, "We're done for now. Take the rest of the day off. Spend it in your studio painting. That usually relaxes you."

"I'll get a lunch together and take Greta on a picnic instead," Wolfram told her as he dressed. "I had to throw out my paints last week. They'd gone bad."

His chosen medium was extracted from bear bee excrement, as famous for its stench while wet as for its ability to hold vibrant colors and blend smoothly. Gisela gave a sarcastic snort.

"How can you tell?"

The prince laughed with her. "The smell gets even more putrid. One whiff and I nearly threw up."

Wolfram of the ironclad stomach – at least on land – nauseated by a smell?

"Shinou, it must have been awful. I'm glad I wasn't anywhere nearby. I hope you disposed of it properly."

"Never fear, I sealed the jars with wax, wrapped them in burlap sacking, and boxed them before I put the whole lot on the trash heap. And I warned the staff."

"Good. Now go on," she gave him a gentle shove toward the exit. "Have fun with your daughter, and give her my best."

As soon as Wolfram left, her cheerful smile melted away. A glance around the infirmary confirmed her staff had things well in hand. Gisela gathered up the racks of blood samples and called out to her senior interns.

"Carry on. I'm taking these up to Lady Anissina's laboratory. I shouldn't be too long."

"Yes, ma'am" came from several stations.

Gisela strode with purpose down the halls and up the staircase to the red haired scientist's tower rooms, not wanting anyone to stop her for casual conversation. She arrived in record time and used her hip to push through the door into her suite.

"Anissina, are you in?"

"Back here!"

"I've brought the blood samples you asked for."

"Great, excellent, perfect timing," her voice came through the curtain over the doorway that separated the workroom from her main laboratory. "Set them on the table somewhere."

Said table was littered with devices Gisela had no clue of their purpose, though she supposed one of them had to be the machine she needed the blood for.

Visiting the scientist's quarters was like stepping into a sea of controlled chaos. It always amazed the green-haired healer that Anissina managed to keep track of it all. Yet time and time again, Gisela had seen the manic woman reach into a box in a rumpled pile of boxes or stick her hand into a pile of loose papers and pull out exactly what she needed at that moment.

Anissina emerged through the curtain as Gisela set down her burden. The other woman wore thick leather gloves and carried a glass beaker that spit out a disturbing amount of purple smoke and blue sparks. The smell in its wake was a cross between old milk and rotting flowers. To her relief, the scientist quickly placed it on a grate set up in the fireplace to vent the fumes up the chimney.

"Did an experiment go bad?"

The bright red ponytail swung with her shrug. "I won't know that until it cools. Meanwhile," she shucked her gloves, dropped them on the hearth, and rubbed her hands together, "let's see if Hear What the Blood Whispers Kun actually works."

Gisela pulled the tube with Wolfram's blood sample from the wooden rack. "First I'd like you to run this under your Measure of a Soul Kun."

Anissina glanced at her over the conglomeration of glass, wood, and copper wire that was her latest machine. "You think one of the recruits might have latent maryoku?"

"I'd rather not say. I want your opinion uncolored by my own."

That sent a thin brow arching into her bangs, but the inventor made no comment. She walked over to a bookshelf crammed with books, scrolls, and a miscellany of devices, frowned at it for a few seconds, and pulled out the machine she was hunting for. Anissina carried it over to a small desk placed under a leaded glass window and proceeded to set it up.

The machine reminded Gisela of a brass spyglass with the middle section cut out and replaced by a crystal donut and the end section studded with compass faces with numbers instead of directions, the whole lot balanced on a wooden tripod. Anissina carefully adjusted the mirror in the narrower end to angle a beam of sunlight from the window through the tube. Once the light was shining through the crystal and into the larger brass tube on the other side, she held her hand out.

Gisela handed over the vial and Anissina carefully slipped it into the hole in the crystal so that the filtered sunlight shown through it. A few seconds after the light passed through the last part of the device, the needles on the gauges began to swing.

"This is strange." The redhead waved her closer and pointed at the display. "The spectrum indicates the presence of two souls but there's no indication of the hormonal changes that accompany a pregnancy."

Gisela briefly closed her eyes at the confirmation of what she had begun to fear.

"There wouldn't be."

Anissina's expression went from curious to eager as the implications of what Gisela said hit her.

"An extraduce? There hasn't been a confirmed conception of an extraduce in over, what seven hundred years? Someone is truly blessed. Whose blood is it?"

"It's Wolfram's sample."

With that, the other woman's joy turned to ash. She too knew the truth behind the romanticized legends.

An extraduce is conceived from the love between two souls without the physical act. Romantics believed that Fate required the child to fulfill a vital role in history and did whatever was necessary to ensure the babe was born in the right place and time. It had been a popular vehicle of fiction writers a few decades back.

And it seemed every year some indiscreet young Mazoku tried to claim it as the reason for an unexpected pregnancy, though a simple physical examination was enough to prove otherwise.

That was also the reason it was virtually impossible to confirm a soulborn conception. A couple that much in love had likely already consummated their bond by the time an extraduce was suspected, obscuring the only way to tell for sure. Wolfram's unscrupulous honor and Yuuri's innocence had created the perfect conditions. Well, almost perfect.

"Is there any hope?"

Gisela took a deep breath and explained, "Wolfram's maryoku has been sustaining the soul unawares. But every study and text I've read says that without the support of both souls, an extraduce cannot reach full term. His levels are some of the highest I've ever measured so there's been no sign of the drain except fatigue, which we all blamed on his bouts of insomnia. Even so, he can't save the baby."

Anissina guided her to a mostly clear bench against a far wall and sat with her, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve and putting it in her hand. Gisela wiped away the tears that had begun to flow. She saw how much Wolfram loved Yuuri and this evidence, despite the signals the younger boy kept sending, that Yuuri felt the same way, ought to have been the best news ever.

"It's not fair," the inventor whispered. "He's lost Yuuri, why must he lose their child as well?"

"In a way he won't."

"But you just said…"

"I don't intend to tell him."

The healer watched shock, outrage, and puzzlement play across her friend's face as Anissina worked through her reaction.

"You must have a reason for your decision. I'm listening."

"Losing Yuuri without even time for a proper farewell hurt Wolfram more than he wants anyone to know. He's under constant pressure from his uncle to take Yuuri's crown and it's tearing at any emotional healing he's managed. I'm afraid this loss will be the last straw. If he knows, he will devote everything he has trying to save a doomed pregnancy to the point of burnout. There are times when the truth does a patient more harm than good. I'm sorry to bring you into this, but your device was the only way for me to be sure without giving Wolfram enough clues to figure it out for himself."

Anissina hugged her brief and hard. "I'm glad you did. This is a burden that shouldn't be carried alone. You come to me whenever you need an ear or a shoulder. But won't our brat notice something is wrong over time?"

"I don't think the baby will survive long enough for Wolfram to manifest any signs that he'd connect with pregnancy. His magic levels will be lower than normal, but it won't affect the little daily tasks he uses his power for. Since we are at peace, he isn't likely to have occasion to find out just how low."

Anissina nodded in agreement and asked, "How do you plan to proceed?"

"I've arranged for Wolfram to be part of the test group for your new blood analysis machine so I can keep an eye on him, just in case. Anissina?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to think of the baby as an 'it.'"

"A girl," the red head told her. "The signs all indicate they would have had a daughter."

-o0O0o-

"Yuuchan? Yuuchan, wake up!"

His mother's voice shattered his sleep and Yuuri sat upright in his bed, panting as if he'd just run laps in gym class. Jennifer's smiling face greeted him when he opened his eyes.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. Hurry and get ready for school or you'll be late. You don't want to keep Ken waiting again."

"Okay, okay!"

Jennifer tipped her head to the side, her expression worried. "You were awfully hard to wake up today. Were you dreaming?"

Sobbing in the dark, the pained cries of someone being tormented. Running madly in search of the victim. One last desperate scream and knowing he had failed someone he loved.

"Yeah, a nightmare actually. I don't remember much except feeling scared and helpless."

"Oh, my poor Yuuchan!" She reached out to pull him close and kiss the crown of his head. "I'll make your favorite breakfast so you'll feel better."

"Thanks, Mother."

"Call me Mama, sweetie. Now hurry up."

Yuuri didn't move for several minutes, trying to pull more out of his mind of the strange dream. Deep in his soul, he knew it meant something important. But the dream was little more than wisps of images that faded fast to nothing.

Defeated, Yuuri put the dream behind him, got out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. He didn't have the luxury to sit and think about it anymore. He had tests today and baseball practice after school.

Yet he couldn't shake the sense of dread or the feeling that he needed to do the impossible: return to Shin Makoku.

-o0O0o-

_AN: A long time ago, way before I discovered anime and manga, I found the word extraduce in a dictionary and wrote it and the definition on a Post-It for use some day in a story. When I started working on the mechanics of Mazoku pregnancy, I found the perfect use for the term. Please review and let me know what you think._

_In the next chapter, all is right again with Wolfram's world when Yuuri returns, bringing an unexpected and welcome results. Hanreid, thwarted once again, will not take it well. Be here for **Chapter ****3: ****Happy ****Returns.**_


	3. Happy Returns

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

Rating: M

_AN:__This__ story __continues __the __storyline __begun__ in _The Maoh's Last Command_. __It __can __be __read __on __its __own __but __TLMC __is __the __prequel __to __this __tale._

_Thanks to everyone who flagged this story for alerts and chose it as a favorite story, and listed me as a favorite author (WOW!). You keep me writing!_

_After a lot of thought, I decided to tell a part of the story in real time rather than flashback. This meant finishing those chapters early. I just finished the involved chapters and have the holidays coming up, so I'll be able to post the next few chapters faster. Thanks for your patience._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 3: Happy Returns**

_**The Present**_

He was dreaming again, as he had practically every night since that first nightmare a few days after he, Shori, and Murata left the world of Shin Makoku for the last time.

Yuuri wandered the stone halls of a place he didn't recognize, hounded by fear with no idea what he was afraid of. Yuuri entered every room he passed. Mostly they were empty, but sometimes there were people in them.

While he slept, every one of them felt as real as if he'd known them all his life. By the time he woke, they were just indistinguishable shapes that faded away along with most of the details of the dream. Yuuri always woke frustrated at that, a part of him sure that it was vital he remember.

He asked anyone he met what was happening and where was he, but they didn't see or hear him. He felt like a ghost too inept to haunt them properly. Frustrated he tried to work it out for himself by exploring his surroundings, starting in the dining hall.

Each time Yuuri had the dream, he covered different parts of the manor – the servants' quarters, the grounds, the guest wing, the master's wing – until he knew every corner of the place. So far, only one thing was consistent in every dream.

Sitting in one of the rooms, waiting by a fountain in the garden, or turning a corner in a hallway, Yuuri always found her. A pretty brunette woman with the saddest hazel eyes he had ever seen, prim and proper in a dark charcoal gray gown with a high stiff collar and lace trim at the cuffs of the long sleeves.

She appeared on schedule. This time she stood at the head of the polished dark wood table long enough to comfortably accommodate the twenty-four large ornately carved chairs. Though she never spoke either, at least she saw and acknowledged him.

"Hello, Joy," he greeted her. It was an English name that meant something she obviously didn't have. Yuuri didn't exactly know why he called her Joy. Maybe some part of him believed if he said it enough times, joy would manifest for her.

Joy moved away from the table, walking backward until she was sure he followed her. That was her only purpose in the dreams, to lead him from wherever they met to the room where the dream always ended.

It lay deep in the twisting turns of the maze of a house. It had no windows and only one door. If dreams had fire codes, they'd forbid occupancy. But this was always where Joy brought him to visit Wolfram.

Most times, his fiancé lay sleeping in the huge bed curled up under the thick pile of blankets. Occasionally he'd find him sitting by the fireplace sketching or reading. He always looked too pale to Yuuri in his dream visits. His normally bright green eyes disturbingly dulled by exhaustion or illness. Strange discolorations marred his skin, like solid black bruises. Rage choked him when he thought of the abuse his friend must have suffered.

But after Joy brought him to Wolfram, he visibly improved. His cheeks gained color; his eyes once again took on the brilliance of quality emeralds; the dark blotches faded away. The transformation went faster if Yuuri touched him, even though the fire Mazoku never seemed to feel or sense him there.

In this dream, Wolfram looked worse than ever. He sprawled across the bed in nothing but a thin bathrobe of plain black silk that did nothing for his pallor, as if he was too drained to do more than drop where he fell. Tears spilled down gaunt cheeks and he hardly seemed to breathe.

With a cry no one heard, Yuuri rushed passed his guide to crawl over the covers to wrap his arms around him. He felt no embarrassment or confusion, only the desire to comfort Wolfram, to make whatever made him cry go away. Gradually, just like in the other dreams, the blonde regained his normal healthy complexion. He actually smiled in his sleep.

Yuuri sighed with relief. When he'd first come into the room, he'd feared the worst.

"Don't you dare die," he whispered in the other boy's ear, knowing he didn't hear him. "Don't ever leave me."

For a while he just sat there with Wolfram cradled against his chest in peaceful rest.

But of course nothing lasts for long in dreams.

It began with a shudder in the shadows in the corners of the room, like heat waves off a sidewalk on a hot, humid day. Only it was dark and somehow…thick was the best word to describe what he was looking at. Yuuri tensed, sitting up to peer around them.

The fear that had trailed him throughout the dream surged like a ravenous monster and he knew, _knew_, that whatever inspired it was coming and not for him. A terrible thing was coming for Wolfram.

The dream morphed into nightmare. Where it allowed him to hold and heal his friend, it did not permit him to save him. No matter how he yelled or pleaded, Wolfram remained asleep and unaware of his danger. When Yuuri tried to drag the fire wielder out of bed to hide him, his fingers found no purchase.

All the while, his fear grew. Beyond the bedroom, he heard the sound of slow heavy footfalls, getting louder as the threat drew closer. The air around them dropped in temperature until his breath misted with every exhale.

Yuuri turned desperately to Joy who observed everything in silence.

"Help me!" he begged, cringing as the sound of the footsteps stopped on the other side of the door.

The sorrow in her eyes somehow deepened and gave him the answer he refused to accept.

Yuuri returned to Wolfram's side, covering one limp hand he no longer had the ability to feel with his. Whatever was about to happen, he wasn't letting him face it alone.

The sound of a key turning in the lock disturbed his fiancé where all his efforts had not. Pale lashes fluttered as Wolfram began to rise out of sleep.

"…Yuuri…?" he mumbled, his head tossing feverishly.

The handle on the door turned.

"I'm here!" Yuuri tried to tell him. "I'm not going anywhere!"

With an eerie creaking sound the door opened flooding the room with light except for the shape of a tall, heavily muscled man standing there. He had no features, as if a shadow had separated from its caster and taken a life of its own. He and Wolfram both stared in horror as the man's silhouette advanced across the floor. Yuuri tried to block its path but it swept through him as if he weren't there to reach its prey. The trespass drained his strength and he slumped to the floor.

Yuuri watched as Wolfram tried to scramble away from it, but the shadow engulfed him, pinning him to the bed. He tried to extricate himself but strands of the dark substance clung to him like tar that got thicker by the second, bogging him down until he lay helpless before the man now striding toward him to join with his shadow in restraining him. Where he touched the much smaller boy blood spurted, wresting a scream from Wolfram until his mouth cut him off. Blood leaked from between their lips whenever the seal of the invasive kiss broke as Wolfram twisted and writhed beneath his attacker.

A gagging sound came from the struggling fire demon. The man pulled back briefly to get a firmer grip on the arm Wolfram had managed to half free, revealing that the black substance of his shadow was flowing from his mouth down Wolfram's throat. Patches of his pale skin began to darken to match the man's own.

This was the cause of the bruising he had healed earlier. Yuuri somehow knew that the man was contaminating the fire demon with his own essence and when it took over his entire body, the Wolfram he knew would be lost forever.

His muffled groans of pain tore at Yuuri's heart even as they enflamed his attacker. Yuuri forced himself to his feet and tried to tackle the man, force him away from Wolfram who now lay completely immobilized beneath him, tears sliding down his face as the grasping hands peeled aside the black silk of his robe.

"Get away from him!"

He hit what felt like a wall of lightning that flung him across the room, into the far wall. Yuuri saw starbursts of rainbow lights and the darkness quickly swallowed him.

-o0O0o-

"And that's when I woke up."

Yuuri finished off the last of the curry lunch and set the box aside. He and Ken Murata had taken to spending their lunch break in the park in the shade of an ancient cherry tree. Yuuri felt a hole in the center of his soul that Shin Makoku and all his friends there once filled. Over time he had come to belong to both worlds and now that he was barred from one, he no longer felt whole. Reminiscing with Murata helped.

"Wow." Murata bit into his bologna sandwich and chewed for a while before commenting further. "That's the most you've ever remembered from one of your dreams. I wonder what it means."

Yuuri rolled his eyes in frustration, "I'm asking you!"

His friend pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "More importantly, what do you think? It's your dream. Any symbolism in it is yours. Only you can accurately interpret them."

"That's why I think it's more than a dream. Nothing about them is typical of my usual dreams. They must have a deeper meaning. Are you absolutely sure we can't go back?" He hesitated before admitting, "I'm afraid something's happened to Wolfram."

Murata's eyebrows arched high above the dark rims of his glasses but the eyes beneath them gave nothing away.

"You think I'm nuts."

"No. I think you're legitimately worried. Whether it's _justified_ or not, we'll never know."

Yuuri slumped, defeated. There went his last hope.

Murata shook his head, "I'm sorry, Shibuya. But isn't it better to be stuck here at home than in Shin Makoku and never see your family again?"

Yuuri packed away the remnants of his lunch and stood. "Honestly, I'm not sure anymore."

-o0O0o-

"There you go." Gisela pulled the syringe out of his arm and healed the tiny wound with a brush of a graceful finger. "All done."

Wolfram rolled down his sleeve while she set yet another blood sample in the rack of similar samples, each carefully labeled.

"How much longer will I have to do this? I'm beginning to feel like a pincushion."

Green hair bounced with her shrug. "This is going to be a long-term study according to Lady Anissina. I'll be drawing blood from all the participants every two weeks for at least another two months. The good news is so far the results are pointing toward a successful outcome."

She went on to describe how Anissina's machine evaluations were performing against her own diagnoses, but Wolfram wasn't listening. A strange feeling humming in his chest had his full attention.

At first, Wolfram didn't recognize the sensation that now raced through his nerves like a cool breeze on a hot day. It had been so long.

But then he knew. And then he ran.

"Wolfram, where are you going?"

All decorum forgotten, he tore through the halls of Blood Pledge Castle, ignoring the voices asking what was wrong. He ran into people, likely knocked a few to the floor, or the ground once he was outside. Wolfram didn't stop. Apologies had to wait.

The groomsmen and stable boys all stopped whatever tasks occupied them when he burst in. The stable master cleared his throat, trying not to startle him. Half-crazed fire demons and straw-filled stalls were not a happy mix.

"Your Highness? Is there something we can do for you?"

"My horse," Wolfram panted. Though if they weren't quick enough, he'd grab whatever mount came to hand.

He didn't have to. Sensing his master's need, the white stallion backed out of his stall and came to him at a trot. He paused long enough for Wolfram to grab a fistful of mane and launch himself astride, and he was tearing off at full gallop through the gates and down the road to Shinou's temple.

Gwendal was going to ream him for recklessness. Gisela, one of the voices yelling after him he belatedly realized, was going to blister his ears for the risks he took riding bareback at this speed. Wolfram didn't care. He couldn't be the first face Yuuri saw on his return but by Shinou, his would not be the last.

The few minutes it took to get to the temple precincts felt like forever. Firestorm must have broken speed records getting him where he needed to be. Wolfram leaned forward to press his face into the warm neck.

"Thank you, my friend," he whispered.

One of the warrior-priestesses jogged up, taking charge of Firestorm as Wolfram leapt to the cobblestoned drive.

"Go, Lord Wolfram, I'll see he's properly cooled down."

He gave her a distracted smile of thanks and ran for the fountain courtyard. At least here people got out of his way so there were no collisions to slow him down. Wolfram brought his all-out sprint to a walk a few yards from his goal. He couldn't appear too eager. He had his dignity to consider.

Upon reaching the double patio doors, he peered through the glass to see the crowd gathered. Through the people around the stone fountain he caught glimpses of black, heard familiar voices. One in particular eased an ache in his soul that had plagued him from the day Yuuri left.

Wolfram walked toward that healing. People parted before him to make way, like water before the prow of a wind-driven schooner. He moved as if through a dream void of reality. His feet didn't feel the ground beneath them. Nothing existed beyond his narrowed field of vision that held only the youth who had been lost to him. Dripping wet, he sat in the fountain like a wimp. His Yuuri.

Please. Don't be a dream.

But dreams were made of images; sensation had no part in them.

His heart beat faster as he stepped over the time-worn stone wall of the fountain and splashed water wicked through his pant legs to chill his skin. It beat faster still when he made his way through the lily pads and dropped to one knee and water flooded his boot.

Water dripped from soaked black hair into the much-missed face, but the guileless eyes didn't blink.

One last test. He reached out with a finger to touch.

And Wolfram's world came back.

He opened his mouth to greet his fiancé.

"You little wimp! Why didn't you come back until now? Where have you been? What have you been doing!"

A part of Wolfram's mind looked on in stunned dismay. It screamed, 'This isn't the right thing to do! You're going to upset everyone. Yuuri's going to yell. His first day back and you're ruining it!'

Yuuri just stared at first, his expression oddly relieved.

"Look, I didn't know I could do it either! It's not my fault. Why don't you ask Murata instead of me?"

Next to him, Murata was grinning from ear to ear, eyes bright behind his glasses. The others around them were laughing or smiling with indulgent tolerance.

Wolfram's rant petered out but his fingers kept their grip on Yuuri's shoulder as if they were afraid he'd vanish if they let go.

That's when Conrart voiced what he had been trying to say. "Welcome back, your Majesty, to your kingdom."

Yuuri's went wide as if just realizing the significance of his surroundings. "Yeah! Hey, everyone, I'm back!"

Ulrike, looking on like a benevolent mother, told them, "There are towels and dry clothing waiting inside when you're ready."

Wolfram gave Yuuri his hand and pulled him to his feet while Conrart did the same for Murata. His brain finally got control of his tongue as they entered the temple proper. Feeling the flush in his cheeks, he turned to his fiancé who walked beside him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Yuuri. I was out of order."

"Don't worry about it, Wolfram. I kinda missed your yelling at me." Yuuri's gaze put a wonderful warm sensation in Wolfram's stomach. It was almost as if the double black had missed him too. "I don't think home feels right without it."

Wolfram stared at him, so surprised by his words that he stopped walking. Laughing, Yuuri wrapped an arm around his shoulders and got him going again.

"Let's hurry. I can't wait to see Greta and everyone!"

-o0O0o-

The moon has long since left the sky and the sun was hours from rising. Only starlight and the torches in the garden below the balcony provided light. Not wanting to waste the unusually warm evening, he and Yuuri, with Greta's enthusiastic help, built a nest of blankets and pillows on the balcony of their bedroom and sat up watching for shooting stars.

The three of them, well Greta mostly, talked well into the night. Clinging to their hands, she blithely recounted every day that Yuuri had missed. Her memory impressed Wolfram as she recalled details and events that had completely slipped by him.

But try as she might, their little girl had to give sleep its due. When her eyes drifted closed and stayed that way, Yuuri whispered, "We'll have all day tomorrow to catch up, Greta, I promise."

With his free hand, he smoothed her riot of curls, watching her sleep deepen.

"I was so afraid she'd forget me or hate me for leaving the way I did," Yuuri whispered.

"Never," Wolfram whispered back."I'd never let her forget you. And we all assured her that if you'd had a choice you'd never leave her like that. But she missed you."

I missed you.

He wanted to say it out loud, but this was their first day together. Wolfram didn't want to spoil it by upsetting Yuuri if he took it the wrong way. "I'm glad you're back," he said instead. That ought to be neutral enough.

"Me too." The younger boy yawned wide. "We should go to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be pretty busy. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Not yet," Wolfram smiled at the perfect segue to his surprise. "I asked Gwendal to give you the day off. Greta's tutors are having a holiday, and my Second is handling my duties. We get all of tomorrow to ourselves."

The joy that suffused his fiancé's face was all he'd hoped for.

"So that's what you were up to when you vanished after dinner. Thanks, Wolf."

"You're welcome."

Yuuri settled back, arms crossed behind his head, to watch the stars. Wolfram curled onto his side and gazed on his starlit profile until he too fell asleep.

-o0O0o-

The head chef came out of the pantry with a parchment-wrapped bundle that smelled temptingly of honey and almonds. Wolfram smiled at her.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Almond streusel," Mistress Kennard smirked at the enthusiasm in his voice. "What kind of picnic would it be without your favorite dessert? I had the pastry chef make extra when I learned you planned a secret outing."

Wolfram snorted, "Not much of a secret if you heard about it."

The graying woman winked at him even as she tossed the bouncing Greta a muffin to tide her over.

"Nothing happens in my kitchen that I don't know about."

Wolfram believed her. When as children he and Conrart made middle-of-the-night raids on the kitchen, they always found plates of their favorite foods in easy reach.

Yuuri watched him tuck the pastry into the heavily-packed basket and cover it with the folded blanket. He wore a dubious expression when he asked, "Isn't that a little much? There's enough food in there to feed an army."

"Don't exaggerate, wimp. You set a bad example for our daughter." He hefted the picnic basket by its handles. "You said we have to run to make that kite thing fly, right?"

Yuuri tapped his bundled paper, string, and sticks. "Yep. We may have to do a lot of running if we have trouble catching a good air current."

"Then we'll need the fuel. Let's get going before someone catches us."

Mistress Kennard jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen's back door. "Use the delivery entrance. It's not likely your brothers will look for you there."

Yuuri gave her a quick peck on the cheek as they passed. "Thanks, Helga. You've been a great help."

"Go on, now." She actually blushed as she shooed them out of her domain to the stifled giggles of her staff, pretending all the while to see and hear nothing. "Enjoy yourselves!"

Wolfram led the way, acting as scout and making sure the halls were clear before they passed through. So focused was he on his chosen task, he jumped an inch when his fiancé broke the silence.

"Okay, Wolfram, what's wrong?"

"Keep your voice down!" he whispered emphatically. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't jump all over me for kissing the cook."

As if he had anything to fear from someone old enough to be his great-grandmother. Still. He swallowed, smiled, and told him, "That's because this is a stealth mission. I don't want us caught. I'll yell at you later."

"Oh."

Wolfram almost laughed out loud at Yuuri's expression. His game came to an end when Greta stage whispered, "Papa Wolf is teasing you, Daddy Yuuri."

Yuuri gave him an odd look. "You never tease. I can't even remember you cracking a joke."

He rolled his eyes. "It's my day off. Deal with it."

Black eyebrows arched up. He wiggled his back. Then all three of them were stifling laughter, trying not to give themselves away.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. Gwendal waited for them with Yuuri's Ao, his Firestorm, four of his men astride their own mounts, and two ready to go. His older brother stood there, arms crossed, radiating disapproval.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Wolfram winced along with Yuuri at the tone of his voice. Gwendal was definitely not happy with them.

Greta cheerily piped up, "We're going to on a secret picnic in the meadow, and Yuuri's going to show us how to fly a kite. Mistress Kennard gave us a special treat and everything." Her gaze traveled between him, his brother, and Yuuri. "We can still go, right?"

The lines between Gwendal's eyebrows softened for her.

"As long as my men go along as escort."

Wolfram frowned. He wanted this alone time with Yuuri and Greta, without watchful eyes or maidenly ears at keyholes whispering odds. Gwendal's men, the best in his command, made unobtrusive an art form, but it wasn't the same.

"We'll be fine, Brother. I'm all the protection we'll need. Or don't you think my skills good enough?"

Yuuri gripped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It almost scared him how much better that touch made him feel.

"No one's saying that, Wolfram," the black-haired teen reassured him as soon as he had his full attention. "Now that I think of it, maybe it's a good idea. You'll have more fun if you not half focused on our safety. I think you need a totally relaxing day too, don't you Greta?"

Their little girl nodded solemnly. She might not be aware of or understand everything that had been going on since Yuuri left their world and the Ten Aristocrats started pressuring him to take his place, but she'd seen firsthand the consequences. Greta had repeatedly asked her Papa Wolf if he was sick. The "I'm just tired" excuse hadn't worked for very long. Gisela told him yesterday while she was drawing his blood for Anissina's experimental machine that Greta had begun coming to visit her to ask after his health. The healer supported his lie and warned him to get more rest. Or else.

If this was what it took to ease her young mind, and to get time with Yuuri, then…"

"Alright, they can come."

Gwendal gave him a look that clearly said he wasn't asking for approval. "What were you thinking, Wolfram? Did you truly believe it was alright for both the Maoh and a potential Maoh-elect to move about outside the walls of Blood Pledge Castle unescorted?"

"Maoh-elect?" Yuuri turned to him with doe-like stare. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We're on holiday, remember? No business talk. Besides, now that you're back, it doesn't matter. Let's get going. I want to try this kite thing."

Wolfram passed the picnic basket off to one of their escort – let them be useful if they had to come along – and waited for Yuuri to mount Ao before boosting Greta up so she sat securely in his arms.

Once settled in his own saddle, Wolfram raised his head to find Yuuri and Greta watching him with the happiest excited faces he had seen in a very long time.

"Alright!" his fiancé declared. "Let's go have some fun!"

-o0O0o-

The coach ride was wearing on his nerves by the time they reached the outskirts of the capital precincts. Gregor von Hanreid fought for calm. A good thing he hadn't been in the mood to talk, his companion would have been much the worse for wear for it. Not that, even on his best day, the sorcerer would ever be mistaken for a conversationalist.

Hanreid instead spent the entire trip going over his strategy. He searched it for any possible counters. There were none of course. With the Maoh gone, his marriage contract was once again enforceable.

But he had a very small window of time. His spies had brought news that Wolfram von Bielefeld was high on the list of candidates for the next Maoh. He had to make his claim before the vote. If his wolf cub became Maoh-Elect, he'd have the right to refuse him, his new status nullifying any and all prior contractual obligations.

The thought of losing his prey so close to the jaws of the trap closing set rage burning in his chest. Hanreid took a deep breath, held it, let it out in a slow stream, and then did it again. He needed to master himself. He must put forth the proper image of an honorable man who only wished the best in a bad set of circumstances. He'd given his fiancé time to mourn his loss when, by law he had every right to come forward the day Yuuri Heika vanished back to the world he came from.

Oh, Lady Celi would raise a cry when she learned of it, but Gregor had chosen his time carefully. She was out of the country and too far away to do anything in time. And if anyone else, including his soon-to-be husband, protested, well that was why he shared this coach with the tall morose man sitting across from him.

A thin smile brushed his lips; a cold thing that he knew from experience sent small children crying for their mothers.

Just contemplating the power and influence that this marriage brought sent a surge of excitement through him. It banished his anger and fed the darker emotions beneath it. Gregor closed his eyes to better savor them.

"What do you suppose it is?"

"Not one of the Bone Tribe: wrong shape and flight pattern. Maybe it's a dragon."

"Too small. Besides, it's on some kind of tether."

The gossip between the coachman and the footman pierced his nap and Gregor woke growling. The two men outside heard and silence reigned again. Gregor closed his eyes, intending to return to his erotic dreams but a third voice denied him that.

"I believe you ought to see this, My Lord."

The hooded human across from him sat more rigidly than usual and stared out the coach window. Gregor followed his gaze.

On the horizon the turrets of Blood Pledge Castle cut into the deep blue of a nearly cloudless sky. Between them stretched a field of tall grasses and wild flowers. Above the field hovered a…thing. Gregor didn't know how to describe it. It flew though it was no bird or any kind of winged creature. The distance between them and it made judging the size difficult, especially since it lurched and swooped like a fish fighting the hook. It seemed to be a square of cloth or parchment with a long string of bows trailing from its bottom corner. His eyes tracked where the tether led to spy a distant human figure with blond hair that shown white bright in the sun's glow. He also spotted horses and armed men nearby.

It had to be his Wolfram. The smaller figure of an auburn-haired little girl jumping up and down and clapping beside him confirmed it. By all reports he loved the human girl dearly. Gregor fully intended to welcome her with open arms, and when necessary, use her as leverage against his husband.

Oh, he smiled to himself, how he looked forward to the days and years to come.

Then a figure in black rose up out of the grasses and his smile died.

His hand clamped around the magic wielder's throat before his mind caught up with the action. Thin fingers scrabbled feebly to loosen his grip.

"Now the Maoh is gone, nothing stands between you and your goals now, you said. Wait a year for decency and Lord von Bielefeld and all you dream of will be yours. You swore on your life!" Gregor tightened his choke hold on the surprisingly calm sorcerer and tried to peer into the shadows of his perpetual hood to watch his face go blue.

The sorcerer managed to squeeze out a few words. "If you kill me now, your plans will never bear fruit."

Gregor kept up the pressure until the arrogance in the other man's posture morphed into fear. Only then did he release him. The way he clutched at his chest and gasped for air gave him bitter satisfaction. Outside the coach his other servants kept their silence. Long-time retainers, they knew their place.

"Well?" he demanded.

The sorcerer, rubbing his throat, spoke in a rougher voice. "There is always a way. If one knows where to look and is brave enough to take it. We must return to your estates to prepare."

Gregor knocked on the roof of the coach without taking his eyes off his sorcerer. "You heard him!" He crossed his arms and leaned back as the driver began the bumpy process of getting the coach moving in the opposite direction. "What do you need? How long will it take? Time is not my friend here."

"Ah, but that is the beauty of it," the thin man actually smiled. "Time is no longer a factor."

-o0O0o-

Yosak knocked twice and stepped into Gwendal's office.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes. He turned around when he realized the Kiddo was back."

Gwendal leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his chin, and scowled at a point in the air somewhere between him and the door. Hanreid had been thwarted once again, but he knew the man hadn't given up.

A cleared throat brought his attention back to the red haired half blood.

"I've learned a lot about this von Hanreid since you assigned me to watch him. I'd be more than happy to arrange an accident."

Shinou, don't tempt me. "Not an option, just continue to keep me informed. Dismissed."

Yosak bowed in acquiescence. But as he closed his office door behind him, his parting, "Keep it in mind," hung on the air like an accusation.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thank you so much for reading! Please review and let me know what you think._

_In the next chapter, Blood Pledge Castle is preparing to host the Shin Makoku nobility during a three- day celebration of Yuuri's return, Anissina and Gisela get some wonderful news, Yuuri learns a little more about what it means to be a Mazoku, and an uninvited guest comes calling . Don't miss **Chapter**** 4:**** Shattered ****Joy.**_


	4. Shattered Joy

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

Rating: M

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks so much for reading and for the encouragement of everyone who has reviewed so far! In this chapter I tackle another question about the world of Kyo Kara Maoh that helped shape this story: how does the physiology of the Mazoku race allow males to become pregnant. Read on and enjoy._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 4: Shattered Joy**

Yuuri rested his chin on his fists as he tried to pay closer attention to Gunter's lecture. Focus was hard to come by with the welcome back ceremonies looming in just over eight hours. Representatives of every noble house were coming to Blood Pledge Castle to reaffirm their oaths and to see for themselves that he was back. That meant lots of handshaking and being polite and living in terror of doing or saying something that insulted some important politico or triggered a feud. Or, god forbid, something even worse.

A clearing throat pulled him back out of his miserable thoughts.

"Sorry, Gunter," he apologized sheepishly.

"I understand, Heika," the lavender-haired swordmaster assured him. "History can be a tad dry for the young. Why don't we change the subject? Gisela has been suggesting for some time now that I teach you more about Mazoku physiology. You will soon reach the age of consent in Shin Makoku, and such knowledge will be necessary." The older man took on a rueful expression. "And as she so succinctly put it, 'What red-blooded young man isn't interested in sex?' True if too bluntly stated."

Yuuri felt the hot flush in his cheeks that meant his face had gone beet red. Though he'd never describe himself as hot-blooded, the healer had a point.

Gunter went on, "Honestly, My King, I fear my daughter spends too much time away from refined company."

Her being a drill sergeant and all, Yuuri wasn't surprised at all. "It can't be that different from humans, otherwise people like me and Conrart wouldn't be here."

"True, but Mazoku and humans have evolved along divergent pathways. The main difference is that full-blooded Mazoku have three genders: male, female, and androgyn."

That got his full attention. "What?"

"You know that a full-blooded Mazoku has a much longer lifespan than a human. Our philosophers theorize that Mazoku evolved as an offshoot of humans. As we gained in longevity, one of the prices we paid was reduced procreation rates by comparison. Only every other couple was able to reproduce and they rarely had more than one child. It's not much better today. Lady Celi is considered a phenomenon because she gave birth to three sons."

"But I've seen families in our travels with three or more kids."

Sorrow entered his teacher's eyes. "War orphans I'm afraid, Your Majesty."

"Oh."

"Another obstacle is that one in five births results in a female child."

Yuuri did the math. "Okay. If your numbers are right, that means not enough girls are born to sustain the population. Shouldn't the Demon tribes have died out a long time ago?

Gunter nodded and smiled in pride at his logic skills. "Exactly, Heika. Under normal circumstances, Mazoku as a race would have ceased to exist. We evolved a unique survival trait in order to ensure our survival as a new subspecies. More and more, our children were born androgyn with the potential to be either male or female. From what Conrart has told me of your Earth, you also have children born this way called hermaphrodites, though it is rare and the child is likely unable to procreate. At the time of sexual awakening – when a Mazoku enters into an intimate and loving relationship – the androgyn's body selects the gender that compliments the partner, increasing the chances of procreation. If an androgyn loves a male, female hormones gain dominance and vice versa. In the case where two androgyn fall in love, the potential can go both ways. It isn't unheard of for such a couple to be pregnant simultaneously."

Yuuri stared in shock. Suddenly a line from the movie Jurassic Park popped into his head. Nature will find a way. He wondered if he'd ever met an androgyn.

"Can you tell an androgyn by looking?"

Gunter shook his head, "No. Only a physical examination will reveal their state. Androgyn present as the gender we have an affinity for. Androgyns who present as male and become pregnant will adapt to carry the child to term. Once the baby is weaned, they return to their original phenotype." His confusion must have shown on his face because Gunter clarified, "Their physical appearance. It is the utmost in rudeness to ask a Mazoku if they are androgyn," his teacher warned, more serious than Yuuri could remember ever seeing him. "That is a matter for family alone and very private."

Which was fine by him. Frankly, he didn't see himself ever wanting to ask anyone such a personal question.

The lesson continued.

"Half bloods are always born male or female. Though they gain a longer lifespan, it's not as long as a Mazoku but they reproduce more easily. It is very rare indeed for a union with a half blood and either a human or a full-blood Mazoku to result in a full-blood child, rarer still for these children to carry magical traits. Therein lies the root of the prejudice against such pairings, that it might lead to the end of Mazoku as we are now."

"What about little El?" he had to ask. "His mother Nicola is human and his father, Hube, is full Mazoku; yet he has incredible powers."

"Young El is the first half-blood in our history to wield maryoku as far as we've been able to discover. I begin to believe that he is the ultimate destiny of humans and Demons, a perfect melding of both subspecies back into one. Only time will tell. I'm sure many will watch his development with interest."

That touched a nerve. "No one's going to treat him like a lab experiment."

"Of course not, Your Majesty! Our children are our most precious gift. No Mazoku in their right mind will ever harm a child. It is why there are no children here at Blood Pledge Castle."

Yuuri tried to make sense of that. "I figured that was because everyone here was single." Though, come to think of it, that in itself was pretty odd.

"It is true that everyone here is single, but that state is not a requirement of being stationed here. It's an aftermath of the war. Human raiders took living prisoners whenever possible, not just to interrogate for our numbers and strategies. Half their attacks fell on villages and farms with no military advantage.

"Humans wanted our people for slaves. They lasted much longer than human workers in their mines and other hard or dangerous tasks. A collar embedded with houseki stones was all the humans needed to control them. And they were often … pleasing to the eye. In the more barbaric human lands, it became a symbol of high status to have a Mazoku concubine…. Heika, are you alright?"

Yuuri sat in stunned shock. Despite its seemingly primitive society right out of a fairy tale – duels, wind and horse-driven travel, all that – he had always assumed this world was a kind of paradise, at least compared to his own. He'd never suspected something so awful could be part of this place.

"Should I stop? I'm so sorry, I've gone too far off track on this lesson, let's get back to physiology…"

"No, Gunter. None of you ever talk about the war. If I don't know all the reasons why humans and Mazoku have hated each other so long, I can't really make good choices can I? I've never really understood why so many Demons resisted my peace policies for so long. Now I'm beginning to. Keep going. Please."

"Very well, Heika," Gunter finally agreed after staring into his eyes for a long time, gauging his words.

"The enslavement of Mazoku by humans is not a new crime. The slave trade led to the first wars between humans and demons. While the humans who participated in that atrocity then are long dead and as victors we saw to it that the histories say nothing of it, Mazoku still live who remember friends and family lost to it. Another curse of longevity is long memory. It is why we've learned to keep our isolation from the human lands, and why speaking of the androgyn state is taboo. We never wanted them to remember.

"But in war, rape happens. The slavers rediscovered that Mazoku were ideal for their purposes, especially if they were androgyn and unable to become pregnant no matter how they were used. They paid a high bounty for captured demons and sold them at a profit to the nobility for slave labor if they were lucky. More often, they kept them for brothels to service any human with enough gold, or loaned them to the army camps where they were forced to pleasure the officers and any enlisted men who had given exemplary service as a reward."

Closing his eyes and swallowing down bile, Yuuri struggled with the image that rose up in his mind of a much younger Wolfram surrounded by houseki and defenseless before humans eager to use his body for their own pleasure. No matter how upset his friend was that he'd been kept from the front lines during the war, Yuuri was _very_ glad of it.

"You rescued them, right? Please tell me no one is still being held prisoner like that."

"The return of our people was of course part of the peace treaty, but it was war, Your Majesty. Some never came back and we had no way to refute the humans' claims that they had died or never been captives in their lands." Gunter reached out to squeeze his shoulder, seeing the misery on his face. "Now that you are Maoh, relations with the humans have improved vastly. More of our people are realizing that not all of them are like the ones who committed these crimes. In time, I'm certain we will learn the fates of all of our missing and bring the ones we can home."

"Yes. We will." And Yuuri heard the echo of the Maoh within him adding his determination to his own. "Gunter, do you mind if we end our lessons for today? I need to think about all of this."

"Of course." The lavender-haired counselor bowed deeply. "Forgive me, I meant to tell you this ugly part of our history much further into your education."

"No apology necessary. I can't be the Maoh I want to be, the one Shin Makoku needs, in ignorance. Don't ever be afraid to tell me the truth."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

As he left the room, Yuuri overheard Gunter's low comment, "Our Heika is growing up," and the warmth of gratitude eased the chill the fate of Mazoku prisoners of war had set around his heart.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram watched impatiently as Gisela pressed a wad of gauze over the puncture where the hypodermic pulled yet another sample of blood from his arm. As she withdrew the needle, he took over holding the bit of cotton and bent his elbow to keep it in place.

"How much longer do I have to give blood? Surely Anissina has all the results she needs by now."

The healer carefully transferred the sample to a small glass vial and stoppered it. "Not much longer. The next phase will be monthly tests with full physicals to see if we can correlate changes in the blood with physical symptoms. In Yuuri Heika's world, they use blood analysis to diagnose illnesses sooner so they can treat them in the early stages."

Wolfram shrugged. He could see the benefit of that for medics without the gift of healing magic. "Wouldn't it be more useful to do tests on human blood? After all, they don't have healers of their own."

"Perhaps, but right now we don't have ready access to test subjects. It's definitely part of our long-term plans though. So," she smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes, "have you and Yuuri been enjoying your reunion?"

"Of course," he snorted, fighting the grin that wanted to spread across his face. "We're engaged after all."

"Well, I certainly see a difference in you. For one thing, your color is better. You're sleeping and eating better now, aren't you?"

He shrugged again, embarrassed that he hadn't concealed his earlier misery better. To his surprise, the green-haired healer crossed the small examination room to hug him tight.

"It's good to see you happy again, my friend."

She didn't give him a chance to reply. Gisela handed him his jacket and pushed him toward the door. "He's waiting for you. Go have fun."

Puzzled, Wolfram looked up to see Yuuri fidgeting outside the infirmary. After making sure the puncture no longer bled, he tossed the gauze into the trashed, donned his uniform jacket, and went to meet him.

"Are you alright?" the wimp immediately asked. "You're not sick or anything, are you?"

Wolfram smiled at the sign that Yuuri cared. "I'm fine, just assisting Gisela and Anissina with a new machine for diagnosing illnesses."

The expression on the double black's face surprised a laugh out of Wolfram. Considering the help they'd seen the scientist coerce out of Gwendal and Gunter, Yuuri had cause.

"Don't worry. I provide blood samples that Gisela collects. I'm not directly involved with Anissina. It only requires a pinprick every other week or so. I don't even need to summon healing energy to stop the bleeding."

"That's good." And Yuuri hugged him. What was it with people and hugging today? He happily returned the embrace, amazed at just how good it made him feel to be held by his fiancé.

When they separated, Wolfram asked, "What was that for?"

"I'm just glad you're okay," Yuuri told him. "When your lieutenant said you'd gone to see Gisela, I got worried."

"You were looking for me?" Wolfram's brows drew down as he realized, "Aren't you supposed to be taking lessons with Gunter right now? Don't tell me you sneaked off again."

"Oh, we finished early. I thought maybe you and I might spend some time together before we have to get ready for the party. Can you get free?"

Wolfram stared. His wimp seemed off. Something in his lessons had upset him. Though Yuuri tried to hide it from everyone, he always knew when his fiancé felt bad.

"I cleared my afternoon in preparation for tonight, so I'm all yours."

"Great!" Yuuri grabbed his hand and pulled him down the corridor. "Let's see what we can scavenge from the kitchen!"

-o0O0o-

Gisela watched, heart racing like a rabbit's in the shadow of a hawk, as Anissina set up Measure of a Soul Kun. All the signs pointed to what they hoped for, but this would erase all doubt.

Without a word, she handed the other woman the sample and Anissina inserted it and set the machine running. Gisela didn't breathe until the redhead turned with a grin that told her she'd been right. Relief hit her so hard she needed the hand that the scientist stretched out to steady her.

"Oh, Shinou, thank you! Wolfram's magic had been sustaining the little one, but she was fading. I was so afraid it was wishful thinking."

Leave it to the scientist to go straight to the point. "How long before he starts to show? We'll need to hold the royal wedding before then to avoid scandal."

Gisela smiled as her relief transformed into joy. "According to what records I've found, once the soul is viable with the constant nourishment of both parents' love, full physical manifestation takes place within a month and the child gestates like a normal pregnancy."

Anissina grinned with her. "Our Heika has an heir. When do you plan to tell them?"

"Not until tomorrow. Yuuri Heika knows nothing of Mazoku reproduction. I've been suggesting to Father that he cover it ever since he returned to us from his world."

Her companion laughed with a mischievous delight in her gaze, "Oh to be a fly on that wall!"

"I need to be sure he's done that first. I want Yuuri to have a basic foundation before we talk. Besides," her own smile took on a somber twist, "I'd rather our guileless King not face the vultures who'll be our guests at tonight's celebrations with that bit of news on his mind."

Anissina knew immediately where her thoughts had gone. "You have a point there. Within the hour, everyone would know by his face alone that something was up and rumors of all kinds would be flying by morning, none of them in spitting distance of the truth."

"Exactly. Because the child is an extraduce, we have to be careful. Certain people will accuse Wolfram of cheating on Yuuri just to bring the succession into question in hopes of advancing their own candidates for consort to the King."

Anissina agreed with a nod. Born to one of the ten aristocratic families, Anissina von Karbelnikoff understood even better than Gisela did just how volatile the situation might get and how careful they needed to be.

"As soon as you tell them, we must also bring Gwendal, your father, The Great Wise Man, and Priestess Ulrike into our confidences. This is going to require careful handling."

"Lady Anissina, that is, most definitely, the understatement of the year."

-o0O0o-

"Ready?"

Wolfram checked himself one last time in the mirror, tugged his dress uniform coat to settle into the shoulders more comfortably. Then he turned and joined Yuuri who waited for him at the door.

"You look fine, Wolf. What are you so nervous about?"

"Every one of your vassal lords, and the Ten Aristocrats, will be reaffirming their oaths to you and judging us over the next three days," he explained to his clueless king. "They'll all want assurance that after being gone so long, you are still the Maoh they remember. As your fiancé, I am a reflection of you in their eyes." He gazed into Yuuri's dark, dark eyes and tried to convey how important this was. "I do not want to give them any cause to look down on you."

Yuuri, totally serious for once, replied, "You? Never."

Wolfram felt his cheeks warm with a blush and turned to quickly stride down the hall. "Hurry up, wimp. You can't be late for your own party."

As they reached the foyer outside the reception hall, Lady Celi entered from the opposite side, beautiful as always but with something harried in her manner. That however did not have any effect on her enthusiastic greeting.

"Wolvie! Yuuri! Oh, you two boys do make a lovely couple."

"Mother, are you…?"

Her embrace smothered the rest of his question, but she answered anyway. "I'm fine, but I had such a hard time deciding on what to wear that I worried I'd be more than fashionably late. Now where's your broth… oh, there he is."

He tracked his mother's gaze to the courtyard entrance to the main hall. Through it Wolfram spotted his eldest brother. He stood in the doorway conversing with a tall, dark lord who stood on the outer step. Their gazes met over Gwendal's shoulder and the intensity of his stare sent ice down Wolfram's spine.

Gwendal moved between them and the two men proceeded down the corridor and away from the reception hall, flanked by his brother's soldiers. His mother took off without a word, following in their wake at a pace brisk enough that Wolfram half expected to see sparks fly into the air with each step.

"Wow." Yuuri's comment matched his own sentiment. "That was fast. Lady Celi usually hangs around a lot longer than that before something distracts her. I wonder if something's up. Maybe we should follow her?"

Wolfram had no doubt something was going on, and it had to do with the man Gwendal and his men had led away. His mother played flighty to the hilt, but her eyes had been deadly serious just now. He was sorely tempted to take Yuuri's suggestion, but "No, we have guests to greet. We'll have to find out what we can later."

As they made their way to the ballroom, a sense of foreboding nestled in his stomach, and Wolfram swore to himself not to let Yuuri out of his sight.

-o0O0o-

Gregor von Hanreid stood at the main entrance feigning patience with a benign smile on his face as the flustered sentry scanned the guest list again at his insistence.

"As I've said, Lord Hanreid, your name is not on the official guest list for tonight's events. Only the Ten Aristocrats and the representatives of the human countries that have allied with Shin Makoku are in attendance tonight. The oath taking will be done en masse tomorrow. As I am sure your invitation explained."

He continued to smile and insisted again. "Oh, I am quite sure an exception has been made for me, considering my close relationship with the previous royal family."

The guard continued to refuse him, an edge of impatience entering his voice. Hanreid had a bet with himself on which happened first: the failure of his victim's diplomacy or the arrival of the woman who'd stood between him and his ambitions for so long.

Hanreid looked beyond the soldier. His brow arched at the arrival of Lord Gwendal von Voltaire and three of his troops. Unexpected, but it changed nothing, in fact it made his plan much more likely to succeed.

"At ease, soldier. Lord von Hanreid, if you will come with me, we can discuss your situation in private."

He gave him a bow with only just enough depth to avoid a charge of disrespect. "As you wish."

Voltaire glared but in that moment Hanreid saw the one he'd come for. He hadn't managed to get this close to his fiancé since before the war ended. Wolfram had indeed grown into the beauty that had been just a promise in his childhood. His gut warmed in that familiar way as thought of all the years he'd missed and would soon make up for. Beside him were his meddling mother and the last obstacle between him and his prize, the 27th Maoh.

Lady Celi's eyes darkened on seeing him. Other than briefly savoring the fear he roused in her, Hanreid ignored her. He had caught Wolfram's eyes.

'Do you remember me? Do you have any idea what's in store for you?' he asked with his gaze and smiled when the boy shuddered, still sensitive. Oh, yes, he had chosen well.

He was still smiling when he was forcibly but discretely led down a side corridor and out into a back courtyard, no doubt meant for castle deliveries, where his carriage and very nervous driver waited under guard.

Hanreid looked to the eldest son's stern face and Celi's pale one as she approached with a quick stride, heels making staccato accompaniment to her approach.

"Leave. Now. And do not return."

"Lord von Voltaire! Is this any way to treat family?"

"You are not family, nor are you welcome here."Celi informed him in a voice harsh with emotion. "I know for a fact that no invitation went to you. What are you doing here?"

Hanreid let his expression go flat, his smile and congenial attitude vanishing in an instant. "Is this a conversation to have in so public a place?"

Lord von Voltaire, to Celi's obvious shock, replied, "There are no secrets here. I strongly suggest you get in your carriage and go back to your lands. There's nothing here for you."

"How long have you known?" Celi asked her son, Hanreid and the danger to your youngest momentarily forgotten.

"Some year's now. I am head of intelligence after all."

Hanreid looked from one to the other. "You kept our arrangement a secret?" He barked a laugh. "As if that would stop me?"

Celi turned on him, surging forward as if to attack him with her bare hands. Her son stopped her. "Not _our_ arrangement," she spit at him. "Nor is that contract valid now that Wolfram is engaged to Maoh Yuuri."

"An engagement that has lasted four years – one in which Yuuri Heika left your son and our world behind. I have legal grounds to call the engagement abandoned in our courts and have my own claims reinstated."

"You'd never win!"

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm willing to put my case before a court of my peers. The prize is worth it."

Celi went very, very still and the air around them began to vibrate with rage-fueled majutsu. Hanreid took a step back. Perhaps he'd toyed with her long enough.

"Very well." He stepped up into his waiting transport, but before he closed the door, he gave them his promise. "But I will have what's mine. Nothing stops me, as you will learn soon enough."

He slammed the carriage door and his driver took that as his cue to take off. Once beyond the courtyard gate, the frightened man asked, "Where to, my lord?"

"The inn." He'd enjoy himself while he waited for the moment when he'd show them just how badly they had failed. Perhaps in the sitting room facing the door to watch their faces and they burst in to find his welcome gift for the Maoh.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri indulged himself in a long stretch and yawn as soon as the doors to the ballroom closed behind them, officially ending a very long night.

"Am I glad that's over. Why can't these be sit-down events? My feet are killing me."

Wolfram gave him a weary smirk, "It's only just begun, wimp. There's still the oath taking tomorrow, and the festival the day after."

Groaning dramatically, Yuuri led the way to their room. Wolfram looked as exhausted as he felt, and he wanted to get the smaller boy to bed. He'd noticed the Fire Mazoku's low stamina when he first came back. He had wondered if losing his heart to the boxes had done hidden damage. Until tonight though, Wolfram had been improving.

"You know," he suggested, trying to make his voice sound casual, "you don't have to stick with me all day tomorrow. Sleep in as long as you like."

The blonde boy gave him a distracted glance as he pulled a town and robe from the closet in preparation for a bath. "Are you still worried about that visit to Gisela? I'm fine, Yuuri. Now hurry up so we can get cleaned up and in bed. Neither of us is sleeping in tomorrow."

Stubborn as ever. Yuuri kicked off his shoes with a shrug. At least Wolfram sounded normal. That didn't mean he wasn't going to talk to Gisela about Wolfram's condition the first chance he got though.

No alarms went off in his head when the icy draft hit the back of his neck until he remembered that Shin Makoku didn't have air conditioning.

The hand across his mouth cut off his warning cry, and the knife at his throat stopped him from struggling before he even tensed to try.

"Good boy," a cultured voice whispered in his ear. "Your cooperation is all that guarantees you see the sunrise."

Yuuri nodded his agreement even he felt the Maoh begin to rise to meet the threat. A second man abruptly stepped in front of him and touched the tips of chill fingers to his forehead. Strange words whispered from lips hidden in the hollow of a deep hooded robe, the sound scratchy against his eardrums. The Maoh's rising abruptly stopped. Yuuri lost the ability to speak and to move. He slumped in his captor's arms. His breathing became so shallow that his lungs began to burn for lack of air.

"What's taking so long, Yuuri?"

The man who had bespelled him moved back and to the left so Wolfram had a clear view when he came out of the bath to see what kept him.

Clad only in his robe, Wolfram froze at the tableau set up for him. He glanced at his sword in its stand and out of reach. Yuuri watched the bright green eyes access the situation and the odds.

The man holding him spoke as if they were discussing something as ordinary as what to have for breakfast. "You can call for guards or summon your fire but not before I slit his throat too deep for anyone to heal before he bleeds out. Don't think I'll hesitate. His life means nothing to me, though I can see it matters to you. Have I made myself clear?"

Wolfram wrestled with his instincts but seeing Yuuri's growing distress, he capitulated.

"I won't resist," he said in a calm, level voice. "Take the knife away from his throat."

"Oh, I'll do better than that."

And his captor shoved him into Wolfram's arms.

The move caught them both by surprise and they hit the floor hard. Yuuri collapsed, struggling just to breathe. Wolfram squirmed beneath him until he was sitting up enough to cradle him in his arms.

"Yuuri what's wrong? Your lips are turning blue!"

Yuuri tried to speak but again nothing came out, and now stars sparked across his vision. His panic grew. He was going to pass out and leave Wolfram alone with these intruders.

Wolfram held him closer, placed a hand over his heaving chest, and called his healing power. Instead of gentle easing warmth, pain like an electric shock hit Yuuri. His spine arched and he tried to scream.

Frightened, Wolfram immediately stopped trying to heal him. His hand shifted to soothe the sweaty hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He turned his impotent fury on the men looming over them. "Damn you, what have you done to him?"

"I am depriving him of the ability to breathe. Eventually, his lungs will fail completely and, starved for oxygen, his other organs will cease to function. He may lose consciousness first, if he's lucky. It's not a pleasant way to die. The longest anyone has lasted is seven minutes. It's been three. No healer can save him."

Yuuri could feel Wolfram's heartbeat race through their contact.

"What do you want?"

The man with the knife came closer and dropped to one knee.

"I only want what belongs to me." He used the knife he'd threatened him with to lift Wolfram's chin and smiled at Wolfram's outrage. "You, Wolfram von Bielefeld."

As Yuuri watched, the color drained from Wolfram's face, leaving him white as a sheet.

The fire wielder pulled back from the unwanted contact. "What are you talking about?"

The man laughed, soft and horrible. "Do you really have time for explanations?" The knife swung his way briefly. "He certainly doesn't."

When Wolfram looked down again, Yuuri knew he'd made his decision. He mouthed "No!" and tried to hold tight to him but his arms refused to obey his frantic demands properly and Wolfram easily pulled free and eased him to the floor.

"I go with you and you undo what you've done to Yuuri?"

The gloating smirk, the way he stared at Wolfram made Yuuri want to slam the tall man into the nearest wall.

Wolfram stood and placed himself between him and threat. "Free him now and I'll go with you."

"No." The man refused to negotiate. "Only after you've left with me."

"He can't last that long!"

"It won't take as long as you think. The spell will release one minute after we leave this room."

Wolfram turned to him briefly, and Yuuri saw that all his concern was for him. The blonde was ignoring the dire promises in the knife man's eyes for his sake.

Desperate, Yuuri managed to use the last of his strength to catch his ankle in a feeble grip. He mouthed, "Please don't."

Crouching briefly, Wolfram kissed his forehead and whispered, "It'll be alright," before heading for the door.

The hooded man who put the spell on him blocked his way. The other man moved up behind Wolfram so he was trapped between them. He caught Wolfram's arms and twisted them up behind his back. Powerful arms pinned him to his chest so he could bend close and press lips to the smaller boy's ear.

"We leave the way we came."

Silent as a shadow, the sorcerer reached out and parted space like a curtain, sending a blast of cold air into the room. Through the gap Yuuri saw another room. The light cast from the torches in the sconces set at intervals in the walls revealed archaic lettering painted on the aged stone in what he feared was dried blood.

Wolfram must have planned to make his escape once they left the room and tried to walk out of the castle. Realizing his mistake, he fought back in earnest but his captor inexorably dragged him toward the gap in the air.

"Guards!" he managed to shout before the two men forced him through the opening and it closed behind them.

Yuuri's lungs stopped working.

Through darkening vision, Yuuri saw two soldiers burst into the room, swords drawn. When they saw him sprawled on the floor, they rushed to his side.

"Fetch a healer now!" one shouted at the other and began resuscitating him before the man had turned to sprint out the way they'd come.

One minute, Wolfram's kidnapper had said, before the spell broke. His vision went black and a weird rushing sensation filled his head. Unless he was lying.

"Hold on, Your Majesty! Help is coming!"

Yes. He had to hold on. Only he knew what had happened to Wolfram, his captors had left no trace behind. If he died, who would save him?

Despair ripped at his soul as he lost consciousness. It seemed time had run out.

-o0O0o-

_AN: I have to admit, I like to write and read stories with cliffhangers, but I won't keep you in suspense for long. The next chapter is already written and I will post it as soon as I finish typing it. The phenomenon of hermaphrodites actually occurs in the real world. Thanks for reading and please review!_

_Hanreid has made his move and taken Wolfram as he promised. Now Yuuri and his brothers must move fast to save him, unaware that there are two lives at stake. Be here for **Chapter 5: Rescue and Revelation.**_


	5. Rescue and Revelation

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_Thank you for sticking with me! I've had my time eaten up by work for the last month. Unfortunately, it's going to be like this for a while so I won't update as often as I'd like, but I'll do my best to post a chapter a month._

_NON-CON WARNING! The next few chapters are going to be pretty dark but I hope I've conveyed the emotions without being too explicit. Allons-y!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 5: Rescue and Revelation**

Portal magic was supposed to be a myth, but that must have been what his kidnappers used. Watching the world tear, Wolfram realized that he wasn't going to get a chance to break free or get help once in the hallways of Blood Pledge Castle. As the two men pulled him toward the shimmering gap, Wolfram kicked and twisted and dug in his heels. It gained him the few seconds he needed to manage one loud shout for the guards before they dragged him through the portal.

Then he was somewhere else, a cold dank place lit by torches and smelling of rot. The sorcerer stepped away and into a dark corner where a table stood littered with flasks and corked bottles, leaving him in the arms of the man who'd threatened Yuuri.

Yuuri!

Wolfram jerked his head around but the gap closed before he could see Yuuri's condition. His last sight of him was of the double black sprawled on the floor, barely breathing, with one hand stretched out as if to grab him back.

"Open it again! I want to see that Yuuri's alright!"

His knife-wielding captor breathed in his ear, "Don't you trust me?"

"No."

"Too bad."

The hands holding him prisoner shifted and abruptly Wolfram found himself caught in a sleeper hold. He thrashed, kicked, clawed at the arm clamped around his throat. The man choking him only laughed at his efforts. He seemed to get great enjoyment out of subduing his struggles. Panic set in as his lungs began to burn for air and his head to spin from the lack of it. He kept fighting even as the last of his strength failed and his legs collapsed under him.

"That's it," whispered the voice he was beginning to hate. "Sleep, my wolf cub, and dream sweet dreams. When you wake, your new life begins."

The last thing Wolfram saw before he passed out was the cold, hungry smile just visible beneath the sorcerer's hood as he approached with a vilely steaming mug clasped in his hands.

-o0O0o-

The smell of pungent smoke woke him as it burned in his sinuses, making his throat hurt. When he reached up to touch it, his hand trembled with weakness.

Something was wrong.

Wolfram dragged his eyes open to gaze upon a frescoed ceiling that depicted in fine detail angels with anguished faces falling into Hell. Fire singed their wings and monstrous claws dragged them down by once pristine white robes. Above them shown a sun-lit white and gold palace riding white clouds in a deep blue sky, a heaven their outstretched hands would never reach.

A shudder swept through Wolfram at the thought of the kind of soul that found such a vision a soothing doorway to sleep. He turned away to examine the rest of his surroundings.

The extravagance of the room rivaled anything the Ten Aristocrats boasted. No expense had been spared. Gold-threaded brocaded curtains the color of red wine hung from the bedposts. Thick candles, the source of the irritating smell, burned in bowls of water set on every available surface.

The vanity and chair, the freestanding wardrobe, the divan upholstered in a rich velvet that matched the curtains, the leather armchair by the marble fireplace were all the work of master craftsmen. Even the walls sported elaborate engravings in a wood he didn't recognize.

"It's walnut. I had it imported from deep within human lands. At great expense I might add. Nothing is too good for my bride."

Wolfram snapped his head toward the voice of the knife man. The move sent pain spiking behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut and clutched his head with his hands, moaning.

"I wouldn't make any abrupt movements for a while," the knife man warned too late. "Your body is still adapting."

He'd had no sense of someone else in the room with him. They must have drugged him to dull his senses so. When he opened his eyes again, it was to see his kidnapper sitting in a chair beside his bed. Instead of the thief in the night outfit he'd worn the last time he saw him, he now wore a midnight blue formal suit tailored to fit his imposing physique like a second skin. He was as tall as his brother Gwendal, and handsome like all Mazoku, but not remarkable in looks except for his eyes. They were a hazel with more blue than brown and so intense no one meeting him would remember anything else if asked for his description later.

"Adapting to what?" His whole body felt wrong, as if only half the connections between it and his brain worked, and a third of those in the wrong way. By the time Wolfram pushed himself upright with his back against the massive headboard, his arms were trembling and his breath coming in gasps. "Who are you? And what … do you mean … bride?"

The dark eyebrows arched up in mock surprise. "You mean no one told you? How neglectful of your mother. Then I shall introduce myself. I am Lord Gregor von Hanreid and you have been promised to me since before the war, my wolf cub."

Wolfram crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. "You are a liar as well as a traitor and an abductor."

Hanreid pulled a folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. Leaning closer, he challenged, "Read it for yourself. I've carried our contract with me since the day Lord Stoffel von Spitzberg and I signed it, so it's a bit worn but it is still legible – and quite legally binding."

Wolfram snatched it from him and unfolded it. His heart sank when he recognized his uncle's signature and the Maoh's seal. He made himself read it through carefully, burying his anger at Stoffel to be dealt with later. When he finished, Wolfram met Hanreid's stare with his own and deliberately let the document drop to the floor.

"This has no force. My engagement to Yuuri Heika negates any such contracts, and I am sure he or my family will happily reimburse any loss you deem commensurate."

Hanreid shook his head. "I have what I want." The eerie smile on his face made Wolfram want to run screaming, despite training and pride and the fact that he'd probably fall flat on his face in his current condition. "And right here, right now, your engagement to the Maoh means nothing."

His stomach twisted as Wolfram realized that Hanreid fully intended to marry him. "You would force the fiancé of your Heika into marriage?"

The mad man retrieved the contract and leaned back in his chair, totally at ease and that smile still on his lips. "Considering the length of your engagement and your, shall we say, pristine state, I very much doubt I'm taking anything from him that he wanted."

There was only one way for him to know that. What else had they done to him while he was unconscious?

"Don't look so scandalized," his captor chuckled. "I simply had my physician confirm what I already knew." All humor fell away, leaving an expression Wolfram recognized as deadly. "You will come willingly to the altar with me, my wolf cub. You will make no protest before the priest and witnesses. In fact, you will play the role of happy bride and spouse from this day forth."

Wolfram just stared at him for several seconds. "You have gone mad."

Hanreid lifted a hand and snapped his fingers.

Out of a dark corner stepped the magic wielder. Wolfram jumped then growled when Hanreid laughed at him.

The sorcerer bowed. "My Lord."

"Now."

The hooded man's hands rose to make arcane gestures and once again the air before him parted to reveal another room, one he recognized.

Fast as a striking viper, Hanreid had him pinned to the headboard, a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Ah, ah, ah. Can't have you waking the little thing."

Over the hand crushing his lips against his teeth, Wolfram watched in horror as the sorcerer stepped through the opening into Greta's bedroom. His upraised hand cast an eerie glow that put her sleeping face into greenish shifting shadows as he silently approached her bed. Wolfram fought even harder to free himself from Hanreid's grip when the magic user reached for her. To his relief, the man didn't touch his little girl, only very carefully removed the teddy bear from her arms.

Shock put an end to his resistance. He remembered this night, or rather the day that followed.

Greta had come running into his room in the moments before night gave way to dawn, sobbing as if her heart had shattered. He hadn't been surprised. From the day he'd told her that Yuuri was gone and not coming back, he'd been half expecting some kind of emotional breakdown. But Greta had surprised them all with her maturity. When they told her, tears flowed but she had kept her composure like a true princess. As he tucked her into bed one night not long after Yuuri's departure, his little girl told him why.

"Sometimes I cry because I miss him, but it's not like with my real mother and father. Yuuri's alive and I can pretend he's thinking about us at the same time I'm thinking of him."

But she was still a child and he knew the grief must come soon or late.

Wolfram had caught her up and held her in his arms. Her words as she'd wept into his neck were not what he expected.

"My bear! I looked everywhere, but it's gone! Somebody took the teddy bear Yuuri gave me!"

Wolfram recruited the maids and they all searched the castle for the missing toy, but never found it. He'd reassured her that it would turn up eventually and quietly increased her security detail.

That had been a year ago.

The sorcerer stepped back through the magic portal with the stuffed toy that looked like a stripeless, wingless bear bee clutched in his fist. The portal closed behind him and he tossed the toy onto the bed. It came to rest next to his hip. Wolfram touched it gingerly to comfirm that it was real and not some trick or illusion. He looked up at Hanreid who still held him trapped in the bed.

"I can reach her any time," Hanreid's soft threat filled the silence. "Anywhere. Cooperate and I won't."

Only then did he release him. Wolfram glared furiously, trying to hide his growing fear from his captors behind anger.

"Go anywhere near Greta and I will kill you."

They ignored his bravado, the sorcerer retreating to his corner to resume watching them while Hanreid got to his feet and walked over to the wardrobe. He rummaged about and pulled out a white dressing gown with finely embroidered swirls in gold and silver thread around the belled cuffs of the sleeves and the high, stiff collar.

"The bathroom is through that door." Hanreid pointed and threw the garment at him. "Clean up and get dressed. You have five minutes. Take longer and I'll come in and help you."

His captor's leer was all the incentive he needed. Wolfram gathered up the robe and stalked as steadily as his wobbly body let him into the indicated room. He closed the door firmly behind him. As expected, there was no lock.

-o0O0o-

As soon as Wolfram shut the door, Hanreid crossed the room to open the panel that concealed the secret alcove that connected Wolfram's new quarters to Hanreid's own suite. His sorcerer followed him inside the walls to the niche with the magicked wall of the bath. From Wolfram's side it looked like polished marble. From his side, it was a window with a view of every inch of the circular room.

"You may speak freely, My Lord," the magic wielder said, pride tracing his voice. "He cannot see or hear us."

Hanreid chuckled as his soon-to-be husband hung his wedding robe on the hook behind the door and with quick efficiency searched the bathing room for any way of escape. He wasn't worried. Even if there were a way out other than the door, he knew Wolfram would wait until his escape didn't put his precious human daughter at risk before acting.

He'd learn soon enough that time would never come.

"He's frailer than I thought he'd be at this stage. Why hasn't he recovered?"

"Your husband has levels of majutsu among the highest I have ever seen. The spell compensates accordingly to block his ability to summon it. Combined with the drugs, his system has been hit hard. Over time he will adjust to a new balance. A pity that. Allowed to mature as nature intended, Lord von Bielefeld might well have approached the strength the Great One once wielded."

Hanreid shook his head, "That doesn't fit the destiny I intend for him. Ease up on the spell until after the ceremony. I can't have the priest thinking he's been drugged into submission."

About two minutes before the deadline he'd imposed, Wolfram gave his face a cursory wash and wipe and stripped out of his bathrobe. He quickly untied the laces of his bridal outfit with slender fingers and swung it over his shoulders, unaware of the show he was giving his hidden audience. Life as a soldier had given his slender body muscles without bulk. No scars marred his pale skin.

His wolf cub was beautiful.

When Wolfram donned the dressing gown, Hanreid watched with satisfaction as the boy's expression shifted to worried surprise at the perfect fit. Thanks to the demonstration with the bear bee toy, a part of his mind would always wonder how Hanreid knew his size, what other personal information he might have, and how he had gotten it. His wolf cub needed to learn that _he_ had the power in their relationship. This was just the first lesson, the beginning of the undermining of that fiery spirit so that future lessons would root deep in his soul.

"We should go back before he finishes dressing, Lord von Hanreid," His sorcerer's suggestion intruded on his train of though. He didn't chastise him for it. Hanreid had no intention of ever letting Wolfram learn just how little privacy he now had.

As he followed his lackey back through the passage to await Wolfram's emergence, Hanreid spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Is he not perfect?"

"Well worth your efforts, My Lord."

-o0O0o-

Wolfram gave his reflection a last critical review. He hated wearing nothing but white, it made him look washed out. The cooler range of the spectrum suited his coloring better. He'd planned on wearing his dress uniform the day he married Yuuri.

Not that it was likely to happen now.

No! He refused to give up on the life he'd chosen for himself, no matter what. Hanreid might have the upper hand for now, but he'd find a way to escape or let Yuuri and his brothers know his location so they could mount a rescue.

The door to the bath opened. Wolfram didn't react, only said without turning, "You gave me five minutes."

"I'm an impatient man."

Hanreid caught his hand in a bruising grip and hauled him out of the bathroom and across the room to a door that likely led out. A quick look around confirmed the sorcerer waiting in his shadows, the teddy bear in his arms, an unspoken reminder of the price of defiance hanging over his head. When Hanreid held out his arm, Wolfram reluctantly placed his hand there as wedding tradition demanded.

"Good boy," Hanreid purred before pushing the door open.

Wolfram expected to be taken to a temple for the ceremony. To his surprise, Hanreid escorted him across the hall to a small room set up as a temporary chapel. Benches that provided seating and a table serving as the altar had been draped with white silk accented with clusters of white and pink roses and sprays of baby's breath bound together with silver and gold ribbons.

The witnesses, four household servants by their dress, stood when they entered. Their happiness at their lord's good fortune seemed genuine enough. What lies had Hanreid told them to explain his abrupt appearance and the rushed wedding? Wolfram doubted they knew how reluctant a bride Hanreid was taking. One of the women smiled as he passed her, tears on her lashes, no doubt the result of the emotions inspired in some by wedding ceremonies.

His own roiling emotions were a far cry from any associated with such a happy occasion.

Remembering the conditions of Greta's safety, Wolfram smiled back. He suddenly found himself wishing for the near opaque veil worn by couples in more traditional human weddings. With his face hidden, he'd have no need to pretend he wasn't miserable.

They stopped before the priest, an old man with rheumy eyes that squinted at the book held barely an inch from his nose.

"This day, gathered in this place, we stand witness to the binding in wedlock of this son of Bielefeld to Lord Gregor von Hanreid in Tribute Bond, to stand in his shadow now and forever."

Wolfram gasped aloud. This ceremony was ancient indeed. Its origins came from the barbaric years when Mazoku lords acquired territory through conquest and kept it through forced marriage. The 20th Maoh had declared it illegal but a few of the more isolated temples still performed the rites if both parties entered willingly into the relationship. The more likely scenario was a large donation quietly added to the temple coffers by the dominant party. No one chose to be a Tribute bride or groom. It reduced the subservient party to little more than chattel by law to the person the ceremony bound them to with absolutely no legal recourse.

Hanreid didn't want a spouse, he wanted a slave.

Wolfram opened his mouth to protest. Hanreid's grip crushed his hand until he feared the bones must break.

The nearsighted priest chided him. "Patience, young man, it's not time for your response yet."

Wolfram gaped up at Hanreid. The tall man bent close and used the pretense of a brief kiss on Wolfram's cheek to whisper. "Behave or I will keep my promise."

The effort to keep his mouth shut left him trembling faintly. Assured of his silence, Hanreid eased the vice grip on Wolfram's hand and smiled at the priest.

"Forgive the interruption, Your Grace. Please continue."

The priest delayed a moment to find his place then took up where he'd left off. "Lord Gregor von Hanreid. By taking Lord von Bielefeld in Tribute bond, you accept the duty to execute in his stead all current and future rights and responsibilities, to manage and distribute all assets, to take onto yourself his titles and lands in exchange for meeting his needs as befits his new status in your household. Do you so agree?"

"I do, with pleasure."

The priest nodded in acceptance of Hanreid's pledge and turned to Wolfram.

"Lord von Bielefeld. By joining yourself to Lord Gregor von Hanreid in Tribute bond, you agree to be his husband and vassal, granting him controlling powers over your rights, assets, and freedoms, giving yourself over to his authority in all aspects of your life from this day forward. Do you so agree?"

A movement in his peripheral vision drew Wolfram's attention to a bench at the side of the room. The sorcerer sat there, the teddy bear perched on his lap like a small child. He was using the stuffed arm to wave at him.

Wolfram turned back to the waiting priest and summoned memories.

Greta, coming alone with only a dagger and her desperate courage into the heart of her enemy's seat to do what she believed was right. Auburn curls in artistic contrast to the blue of his uniform as she leaned against him while they read bedtime stories together. How she faced each new day with bright smile and shining eyes. The blossoming of wonder as she realized that she'd found home and family with him and Yuuri.

With his motivation firmly before his mind's eye, he was able to say, "I do."

"Both parties in agreement, I declare the bond sealed. May you both find joy in each other."

Hanreid barely waited for the ceremonial words that meant the end of the wedding to spin Wolfram into his embrace. Before he had a chance to do anything about it, Hanreid trapped his right arm in the small of his back as he bent him backward.

The kiss that followed was nowhere near ceremonial.

Hanreid's height and the position he'd forced him into unbalanced Wolfram. His toes only just reached the floor and the sense he was about to fall sent his free arm flailing. The lips smashing his parted and the tongue behind them pushed against Wolfram's teeth. When he refused to give way, Hanreid tightened his grip on his wrist until the pain blurred his vision. Still Wolfram refused to cooperate, enduring with the stubbornness that had sustained him all his life.

After far too long, Hanreid broke the kiss, leaving Wolfram gasping against his chest. The nervous laughter of the witnesses echoed off the walls while the red-faced priest stared.

Hanreid grinned, "Forgive us, but we've waited a long time for this day. Ardor will have its way."

The elderly man's face went redder still as he cleared his throat. "Ah. Yes. Of course."

Still holding him tight against his body, Hanreid announced, "A feast waits in the lower hall. Go, enjoy yourselves. My husband and I will join you after we have fed another hunger. Perhaps."

The nervous laughter took on an uncomfortable note as Hanreid swept him up in his arms and strode out of the makeshift chapel and back to the room where he'd awakened.

Out of sight of the others, Wolfram twisted his body violently, forcing Hanreid to drop him. He scrambled to his feet and put distance between them. Hanreid turned to close and lock the door. When he faced around, intent burned in every line of his body.

"You're mad if you think I'm letting you touch me!"

"Oh, I'm going to do a lot more than that, my wolf cub."

"Stop calling me that!"

Wolfram backed away as his unwanted husband stalked him, trying to scan the room for something to use as a weapon while keeping Hanreid in sight. Without boots to give his kicks weight, he had no intention of closing with him unarmed.

"I agreed to marry you," he objected as he tried to sidle over to the vanity where a rat-tailed comb rested on the marble surface. "That was all."

Hanreid moved with unexpected agility to cut him off from his goal. "You're a big boy, Wolfram. You know what marriage entails. Now come here!"

He lunged and Wolfram dogged his snatch. Ducking under his arm, he slammed his elbow into his attacker's midsection with everything he had. The man doubled over, cursing violently.

Wolfram ran for the door, worked the bolt, and darted into the hall only to be caught by the sorcerer who, though thin as a sapling, held him captive with ease.

The sorcerer.

His threat to Greta was the only reason he'd allowed Hanreid to force him into marriage. Eliminate that threat and Hanreid had no hold over him. Wolfram had never killed with his fire before, but the alternatives didn't bear thinking about.

He summoned his element. Sluggishly at first but then with the familiar rush, his fire rose to his call. Wolfram opened his mouth to speak the chant that targeted his flames.

And the fire slipped away, shunting out of his reach and dissipating, taking with it most of his strength.

Wolfram slumped to the floor, held up only by the sorcerer who quickly hauled him back into the suite and handed him over to his master.

A backhand sent Wolfram staggering several feet before he slumped to the floor without the energy to get to his feet again. Hanreid bore down on him to drag him to his knees by his wrists.

"I will not tolerate defiance." He called over his shoulder. "Open the portal. It seems we need to pay another visit to sweet Greta."

"No! Don't hurt her," Wolfram begged, his voice choked with too many emotions to name.

"You knew from the start what price she'd pay."

The air parted again to reveal Greta's room where she lay asleep and too far from help. All the sorcerer had to do was reach through to drag her into his hell. Wolfram sagged, defeated.

"I'll do whatever you want! Just … please don't do this!"

"Swear that you will abide by the marriage vows."

Angry tears spilled down his cheeks. The sorcerer stood poised to reach into the portal, waiting on his response. At least he managed to keep his voice steady as he vowed, "I swear to fulfill the terms or the marriage bond. Now close the portal!"

Hanreid stared at him, searching his face. Wolfram did nothing to mask his resentment and fear, hoping to deceive that scrutiny. But Hanreid saw through him. A slow smirk stretched his lips.

"Clever. I've heard that you were quite the scholar. Swear on your life and honor that you belong to me."

The last of the blood in his face drained away. There were ways around the marriage vows he'd been forced to swear to. In most Demon territories it was illegal. Giving his personal word left him no recourse.

Wolfram opened his mouth and nothing came out.

Hanreid nodded. The sorcerer pushed his arm through the portal.

"Stop! I swear it, damn you! I swear on my life and honor that I belong to you."

A harsh burst of triumphant laughter from Hanreid and the sorcerer shut down the magical portal.

"Get out," Hanreid ordered. "I won't need your services again tonight."

"Goodnight, My Lord." The hooded man left them, closing the door behind him.

The next thing Wolfram knew he'd been slammed into the expensive wall beside the bed and pinned there with his feet dangling in the air and Hanreid's body grinding against him.

When he kissed him this time, Wolfram didn't dare resist. He opened his mouth for the demanding tongue. His whole body shuddered at the sensation of the hot muscle driving toward the back of his throat. Hanreid plunged so deep Wolfram started to choke. Panic overrode his determination to endure quietly and deprive him of as much pleasure as he could.

He tried to break the kiss and push his attacker off of him, but Hanreid thwarted his efforts by catching both wrists to one hand and using the other to grab him by the hair and keep his head still. Using his knees, Hanreid forced Wolfram's legs wide and pressed in closer. No matter how he kicked and twisted, Hanreid maintained the contact until Wolfram felt his arousal grow against his crotch.

Hanreid pulled out of his mouth and bent down to lick up the spittle running down his chin. "So sweet. I am going to enjoy seeding my child in you."

"That's impossible. I don't love you. You can't impregnate me!"

Horror surged through Wolfram as Hanreid flung him down on the bed and used his greater weight to pin him there. Kneeling between his legs, Hanreid freed his erection and tore open Wolfram's dressing gown. "Pray you're wrong," he told him as he positioned himself. "Because this is all you have to look forward to until I do."

Hanreid came crashing down and Wolfram's world became pain.

-o0O0o-

Voices sounding as if they came from a far away cavern drifted into the darkness of unconsciousness.

"…any better?"

"He's breathing on his own. I healed the damage caused by oxygen deprivation, but he may have gaps in his memory of the last few minutes before he lost consciousness."

"Damn it. We need to know what happened."

Yuuri recognized them: Gwendal and Gisela. He wondered who was hurt. That thought triggered a surge of anxiety and with it an awareness of the need to wake up, to find out what was going on.

Someone needed him.

"My Lord."

"Report."

Was that … that was … Conrad?

"Most of the search parties have reported in. There's no sign of him. The sentries in the gardens below the balcony saw no one enter or leave. The first they knew of trouble was when he called for the guards."

"It was the same for us, Lord von Voltaire." The third voice belonged to one of his security team. His name refused to come, but Yuuri remembered that he was an older man who treated him like a favorite nephew in lighter moments. Now guilt and remorse echoed behind each word. "We made sure their rooms were secure before they returned from the reception. Only they entered. We broke in seconds after he raised the alarm, but he was gone when we arrived and His Majesty lay on the floor barely breathing."

Who was gone?

"We failed in our duty."

"No you did not. You kept Yuuri Heika going until I arrived," Gisela's voice reassured. "And from what I'm hearing, I doubt anyone would have been fast enough to do any better."

He had to wake up. Now!

"He moved! Yuuri?"

"His breathing and coloring are much better. He's starting to come around. Heika, can you hear me?"

Oh, his head hurt.

"We need you to wake and help us find…"

"Wolfram!"

He sat up so fast his head collided with someone who'd been leaning over him, sending stars flying across his vision.

"Owww! Sorry, Conrad."

Conrad's hand clasped over his nose muffled his reply. "My fault, Your Majesty. I ought to have kept farther back."

Yuuri fell back, clutching his forehead with a groan. His head hit pillows instead of hardwood. Someone had picked him up and stretched him out on his side of the bed. There were more people moving in and out of his room than he remembered ever seeing before. All busy, all deadly serious.

"How long has it been?" Growing panic pitched his voice higher than normal.

Gwendal answered, "Nearly half an hour," as he approached his bedside.

That long? He tried to get up but both Gisela and Conrad held him down.

"Take is slowly, Heika," the healer told him. "It may take a while for your equilibrium to return to normal."

"There's no time, we have to go after them!" Yuuri practically screamed at them. "We have to get Wolfram back!"

"Back from who?" asked the eldest brother. "From where?"

The questions stopped him cold. "I … don't know."

Conrad squeezed his arm until he got his attention. "Don't give in to panic, Yuuri." His voice was calm and reasoned, despite the fear for his little brother evident on this face. "Tell us what happened before the guards entered the room. Anything you know may help us find Wolfram."

Nodding, Yuuri closed his eyes to better shut out any distractions while he tried to recall as much detail as possible. He played the kidnapping over in his head like a movie and described it aloud.

"I felt a cold draft from behind me. By the time I realized something was wrong, someone had grabbed me from behind and held a knife to my throat. There were two of them. Both wore dark purple cloaks, one with a hood so I couldn't see his face. They were tall, one big and strong like Gwendal – he was the one who held me; the hooded man was much thinner with skin-and-bones hands. The bigger man threatened to kill me if I made a sound. I felt the Maoh begin to surface but then the other man cast some kind of spell on me. I couldn't talk and it kept getting harder and harder to breathe. I couldn't talk. The Maoh had started to rise but then my magic failed. He'd blocked it somehow."

Yuuri's stomach sank. He hadn't even thought to check! Magic still wasn't second nature to him. Half-embarrassed, he reached inside. He sensed the Maoh entity again though too faintly to call yet, which was probably a good thing. He also sensed a rage so intense Yuuri feared for everything and everyone around him if the Maoh emerged now.

"Heika," prompted Gwendal with understandable impatience.

"Sorry. Wolfram had gone ahead of me into the bath. He came back when I took too long. They used me to make him do what they wanted. They told us the spell would kill me if they didn't remove it in seven minutes. If Wolfram left with them, the spell would break and I'd live. I tried to tell him not to go, but Wolfram went anyway. I'm sure he planned to escape on the way out through the castle, but instead of using the door, the magic wielder tore a hole in the air. I saw another place, a room of stone walls with symbols written on them. Wolfram yelled and tried to fight back then but they dragged him through and the gap closed up. But that man lied. I still couldn't breathe. I remember the guards coming in and then I woke up here."

"But why take Wolfram?" asked Gisela, puzzlement and worry in her voice. "I'd think Heika would be the higher value target of any enemy of Shin Makoku."

Yuuri shook his head, "It wasn't about me or Shin Makoku. The man with the knife said he'd come for what was his, that Wolfram belonged to him, as if he were a slave or something."

The silence at the end of his words screamed shock. A gasp broke it and Yuuri opened his eyes.

All the soldiers had gone, probably to join the search of the grounds. Only Gwendal, Conrad, and Gisela, along with Yosak and Lady Celi who must have arrived while his eyes were closed and he sat lost in recall had heard his tale. Anguish burned in every line of Celi's body as she stood there with hands clasped over her mouth. Of all the people in the room, only Gisela shared his confusion.

"What is it?"

Conrad grabbed his shoulders and turned him so they were face to face. "Yuuri, this is very important. Can you describe him, any detail at all?"

Oh, this was seriously worse than he'd thought. Yuuri had to swallow twice to speak around his rising panic. "Like I said, tall and muscled like Gwendal, and strong. He lifted me off my feet when he held me. He spoke well, like a noble." A surprising realization put a frown on Yuuri's face. "I think I may have seen him before. The way he stared at Wolfram was creepy familiar…. The man in the hall!"

"What hall?"

"Before the party, Wolfram and I were on our way to the reception hall when we saw him being escorted in the opposite direction by Gwendal and his soldiers."

Lady Celi slumped into a nearby chair and Gisela darted to her side. Yuuri had only seen that look on the former Maoh's face once in all the time he'd known her. His growing anxiety spiked into fear.

Yuuri clutched at Conrart's arm. "Who is he? What does he want with Wolfram?"

Gwendal interrupted whatever his godfather had started to say. "Explanations later, Heika, please. Yosak."

"He's staying at the Laughing Cockerel," the red-haired spy reported in a rush of words, "if he hasn't already left."

The three men were out the door practically before the last words registered on Yuuri. Oh no, you're not leaving me behind!

Lady Celi tried to follow too but Gisela restrained her. "You aren't going anywhere until I'm sure you're alright. Heika, wait! There's something…."

Whatever Gisela had to say, he'd apologize and give her his full attention later. Right now Wolfram came first.

Yuuri reached the courtyard in record time but the rescue party had already ridden out. He found Dacascos holding Ao for him, saddled and ready to go, one of the stable hands making sure the saddle was securely cinched.

"Lord Weller told us you'd be coming," the bald soldier reported as he helped him mount. "Take the second right when you reach the town. The Cockerel is at the end of the street."

Yuuri settled himself on Ao's back as he committed Dacascos' Spartan instructions to memory, took the reins from the groom with a distracted "Thank you!" and urged Ao forward.

The coal black stallion ran all out despite the darkness. Yuuri worried for a moment, but Ao moved with sure-footed confidence. He knew the roads around Blood Pledge Castle better than Yuuri did so the night was no obstacle for him. Street torches and moonlight along with the lamplight from the sentry posts and buildings they passed helped.

By the time they reached the town proper, people had begun leaning out windows and coming out of their homes and the taverns still doing business to see what was going on. Yuuri pulled back on the reins to slow Ao down before they ran into someone or missed the turning.

There!

Yuuri pulled right and Ao carried him to where Conrad and the others – including four soldiers from Gwendal's unit – had dismounted and passed through the inn's front door. Ao stopped beside the hitching post. Yuuri cleared his feet from the stirrups and dropped awkwardly to the ground.

"Thanks, Ao," he whispered while looping the reins around the wooden pole, just like a cowboy in a Western movie a part of his mind noted. "I owe you big time."

Yuuri ran into the inn to find Gwendal confronting the man at the receiving desk.

"Which room is Lord von Hanreid's?"

The innkeeper, short, round, and terrified, stood his ground with a courage Yuuri might have admired under other circumstances.

"His Lordship asked not to be disturbed. He paid gold for his privacy. Even if he hadn't, I'd uphold his wishes. Unless he has committed a crime, I cannot tell you anything or allow you upstairs."

Yuuri stepped forward to tell him loud and clear just what that Hanreid character had done to him and Wolfram. Hands covered his mouth, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him back into the shadowy foyer and out of the innkeeper's line of site.

A familiar voice whispered, "I don't think that's a good idea, Shibuya."

Yuuri spun out of his grip and stared in disbelief.

"Murata? How did you get here? When?" Yuuri asked in a lowered voice.

His bespectacled friend replied just as quietly, "I was on the road back to the temple when I heard all the commotion. I saw Gwendal and Conrad riding out hell bent for the town with guards and knew something was up, so I followed them."

"Why shouldn't I tell him what's happened?" Especially if it got them to Wolfram's side all the sooner.

"I didn't beat you here by much so I haven't had a chance to ask around, but whatever is going on, I get the impression from Lord von Voltaire that discretion is vital. So?"

"Wolfram's been kidnapped by a guy called von Hanreid."

"Gregor von Hanreid?"

The question caught him off guard. "You know him?"

"I know _of_ him. He doesn't have a very nice reputation. Come on, we'd best see to rescuing our Fire Demon ASAP."

Yuuri followed Murata to the front desk where the clerk was still vigorously defending his guest's privacy.

"If you can't show me a warrant, then tell me what he has done to deserve this invasion of his privacy? I can make a decision based on that."

"The nature of his crimes is none of your concern. If you do not tell me where he is hiding, we will search every room in this inn until we find him."

Yuuri heard the low growl in his councilor's voice underlying his words. He knew the signs. Gwendal was fast losing patience and the poor innkeeper had no clue what he was about to trigger.

The little man behind the desk began flapping his hands about in a useless gesture meant to calm the gray-haired man. "Please, Your Lordship, my guests! The Laughing Cockerel has a hard-earned reputation as the quietest, safest lodging in Shin Makoku. That action could ruin me!"

Gwendal leaned over the desk until they were practically nose to nose. "Then tell me what room he is in!"

"He can't have done anything to justify that," the pudgy man insisted. "Lord von Hanreid hasn't left his room since he carried his ailing husband up those stairs. Apparently the journey here was very hard on the poor lad, he was all bundled up in blankets and moaning."

Yuuri saw the muscles in Gwendal's back stiffen.

The innkeeper continued, "I offered to send for a healer, but Lord von Hanreid declined, had his own personal physician to attend him. He ordered that they not be disturbed for anything save a visit from the Maoh himself."

With that Yuuri stepped forward, avoiding Conrad's attempt to intercede.

"Well, his condition has been met. Where is he?"

Everyone turned to stare at him. Was that really his voice? Stone hard and uncompromising, he must sound like he did when the Maoh manifested.

"Your Majesty!" The innkeeper bowed, so startled he nearly clocked his head on the reception desk. "Lord von Hanreid is staying in my best room, on the third floor at the end of the hall."

He hadn't finished before Yuuri turned on his heel and strode to the staircase, guard, inn staff, even Gwendal stepping back to let him pass. He wondered if the Maoh was manifesting after all as he hit the staircase two steps at a time. But he remained aware. There was no hint of the rushing wind sensation inside him that signaled the arrival of the Maoh spirit.

No time to think about that. He'd reached his destination. Yuuri opened the door without knocking and crossed the threshold.

And froze.

As if staged, a divan was the first thing he saw, angled to give him a titillating view of what was happening. On it sprawled the man who'd threatened him less than a hour before. A much smaller body trapped beneath him struggled feebly, but Hanreid's body, so massive by comparison, engulfed and negated all resistance. Hanreid's cloak and the half back of the lounging sofa covered much but not enough to disguise what was happening.

Hanreid shifted to catch the arm that broke free and tried to box his ear. "You're feisty tonight, my love," he panted as his body shuddered in release, and the smaller figure gave out a garbled sob. Hanreid's head vanished behind the divan back and Yuuri heard the sounds of a wet kiss.

"Get off me!"

Yuuri barely recognized the muffled, pain-filled voice.

With a deep chuckle, Hanreid shifted enough to let Yuuri see who he'd just raped and to make out the half-exposed swell of Wolfram's pregnancy.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! Please review. This is my first attempt at writing an "M" story – constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Wolfram was only gone an hour. How can he be pregnant? Don't miss **Chapter 6: In the Family Way.**_


	6. In the Family Way

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks to everyone who signed up for alerts for this story and have waited patiently for this chapter. The project at work that ate up my time for the last couple of months is pretty much done so I can get back to more fun, non-work things, including writing. I have several handwritten chapters so I'll be able to update faster for a while._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_NON-CON WARNING for this chapter._

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 6: In the Family Way**

While Yuuri gaped, Hanreid rolled a feebly struggling Wolfram onto his back and dragged him across his thighs for another assault. Within him the Maoh woke to outrage and began to uncurl and rise. 'No!' he cried within himself. 'Not here, not yet. Not until Wolfram is safe.' And to his surprise the spirit obeyed, though is remained awake and aware.

"Oh, damn!" Murata's whispered expletive from over his shoulder brought Yuuri's attention to the sounds of the others coming up the stairs behind them. Wolfram's brothers!

Yuuri darted to the sofa and dragged Hanreid away from Wolfram and flung him to the floor, leaving his victim curled up and heaving for air on the soiled couch.

He spun just as Gwendal reached the door. Dodging around Murata, Yuuri rushed passed the eldest brother as he burst into the room, grabbed a startled Conrad by the wrist to pull him in after him, and blocked the doorway.

He ordered the soldiers about to join them, "No one comes in; no one goes out. Got it?"

The slamming door cut off the startled guard's, "Yes, Heika."

Privacy assured, he joined the others staring at the tableau before them. Hanreid sprawled on the floor with an overweening smirk on his face. Wolfram still lay on his side gasping for air and cradling his stomach in his arms.

Yuuri watched Hanreid get to his feet far too casually considering he faced the drawn swords of two furious swordsmen, never losing that infuriating smile.

"Surely Your Majesty's business with me isn't so urgent that you had to break in without an invitation."

On the divan, Wolfram's eyes went wide as he realized just who had interrupted his rape, and who must have come with him. He forced himself upright and started to close his robe.

"Don't." Hanreid caught him by the wrist and pulled Wolfram to his feet and into his embrace. One arm wrapped around his shoulders while the other curled around his side to allow the large hand to rub circles on top of the shaking blonde's stomach. "We have nothing to hide, or to be ashamed of. Let them see."

A blur in his peripheral vision and the next thing Yuuri knew Conrad stood with the point of his sword under Hanreid's chin.

"Get your hands off my brother!"

Hanreid obeyed without a hint of backing down, as if he knew he'd already won. With his free hand, Conrad moved his little brother gently out of harm's way.

"You come late to this party, Weller. My hands and more have graced my wolf cub, as you can see."

Throughout the confrontation, Yuuri's gaze never left Wolfram. Face red, mortified, he stood there trying to tie his robe in place and salvage some dignity with hands that shook so badly the task was proving impossible.

Yuuri glanced around the room, spotted a decorative throw draped over a chair by the fireplace and crossed the room to fetch it. Hanreid made an abortive move to stop him, but Conrad kept him at bay and Gwendal shifted his position so he could run interference if Hanreid still decided to act.

He shook out the silken throw – a pale apple green cloth with pink and white roses scattered across it – and wrapped it around the trembling boy. Yuuri walked him back to the chair, no way was he letting him sit on that divan. As he eased him down onto the padded seat, their faces came close together and Wolfram whispered for his ears alone.

"Did they see?"

God, he wanted to cry.

Yuuri smoothed the sweated bangs out of anxious eyes and tried to smile confidently, "No, but they know what happened," he whispered back. "Rest here, Wolfram. Everything is going to be alright. We'll have you out of here and under Gisela's care in no time."

He stood straight and turned to face the rapist. Rage surged in him, rising from his stomach to the middle of his chest. His hands curled into fists, but Yuuri's mind, to his surprise, remained clear and lucid. The memory of one of Gunter's lectures he hadn't really listened to rose and he knew what to say.

"Gregor von Hanreid, you are under arrest for assaulting and threatening the life of your Maoh, and for the kidnapping, assault, and rape of my fiancé. Each of these charges is an act of treason, am I correct, Lord von Voltaire?"

"You are, Heika," his councilor confirmed with grim satisfaction.

Hanreid refastened his pants, chuckling. When he raised his head, the smile was even wider. "Ah, but I did not rape your consort, Yuuri Heika. I made love to my lawfully wedded husband."

The last words dropped into a profound silence. Yuuri refused to believe him. Everyone knew who Wolfram was and that he was engaged to the 27th Maoh. No priest or priestess would conduct the ceremony. If he and Hanreid were married, there was nothing lawful about it.

Gwendal asked the inevitable question, "Wolfram, is it true?"

"Yes."

Wolfram's voice sounded so defeated. Yuuri twisted around to look over his shoulder, but the fire Mazoku refused to meet his eyes, curling away from them all as if to protect his … baby.

"Without coercion?"

Wolfram opened his mouth to answer, but Hanreid spoke over him. "He wed me of his own will. I admit it hasn't been easy. We were strangers after all, thanks to your interference. But I love him, and he has grown to love me."

Liar!

Gwendal scowled. He, too, knew the lie. "My brother can speak for himself."

"Actually, no he can't, not without my permission."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hanreid took on an expression of twisted delight. "We needed to be sure that you never separated us again."

With those words, Gwendal went white with rage. Conrad's calm cracked wide and he drew his sword arm back.

"Brother, don't!"

Yuuri saw his godfather pause at Wolfram's desperate cry just as a burst of magic flung him backward. He collided with Murata, who steadied him by catching Conrad's arm. He held on after the taller man got his balance, probably to keep him from attacking Hanreid again. But Conrad stayed put, sword still at the ready. He stared with a small frown of concentration at a shadowed corner of the room.

Only then did the sorcerer step out of his concealment to stand beside his lord.

Hanreid barked out a laugh. "Did you really think I'd come undefended?" The man dropped his false amiability. "I know how you lot think. I expected you to refuse to acknowledge our bond, despite the fact that Wolfram carries my son in his belly. What are you planning? To accuse me falsely of a crime, lock me away, then dispose of me quietly?"

Outraged for his friends, Yuuri told him, "They'd never do anything like that! _They_ have honor."

"Oh, really?" Hanreid folded his arms across his chest. "How honorable can they be when they refuse to stand by the Maoh's given word? I did not kidnap your fiancé, Heika Yuuri. I rescued him from the people who broke faith with me and kept my betrothed from me illegally."

Betrothed? Wolfram was already engaged when they met? Impossible. Wolfram would never have kept something like that from him. Yuuri had never known a more honest and straightforward person in his life.

"Even assuming you speak the truth," Murata's voice broke through his shock at Hanreid's accusation, "it changes nothing regarding your assault on Yuuri."

"And I am sure that His Majesty," and Hanreid sent him a frigid glance, "will overlook my indiscretions to spare his former fiancé sharing the punishment slated for me."

From the expressions on his friends' faces, Yuuri realized that the outrageous claim wasn't another lie. For whatever reason, Wolfram would share Hanreid's fate.

Damn him!

"Gisela."

The strained gasp barely registered but it was enough for Yuuri to turn and catch Wolfram before he slumped to the floor. The stretch to reach him put Yuuri off balance and he ended up on his butt with Wolfram half in his lap. The other boy's pallor went from white to gray as he watched.

"Wolfram, what's wrong?"

The blonde fire wielder reached out blindly. Yuuri caught the hand and held on. Thin fingers gripped his with failing strength and Wolfram stared up at him, eyes dilated and scared.

"Gisela … need …." His eyes closed and Wolfram went completely limp.

"Gwendal!"

The eldest brother had already reached his side. Sheathing his sword and dropping to one knee, Gwendal took off his coat and wrapped his little brother up in it, before scooping him up in his arms. The heavy coat, much too large for Wolfram, offered more warmth than the flimsy robe he wore and the pretty blanket. Yuuri realized that its bulk also did a much better job of concealing Wolfram's condition. He didn't want Wolfram to have to endure the gawking of any people whose curiosity had kept them in the street to see what was going on, not after all he'd suffered. As they stood together, Yuuri heard an almost animal growl. He turned his head and saw Hanreid's composure break for the first time. The handsome face had twisted into ugly with a mess of emotions.

Outrage. Hatred. Possessiveness.

"Take your hands off my husband!"

Gwendal peered into Wolfram's face. He raised the arm supporting the smaller boy's shoulders so he could press his cheek to his little brother's forehead. He turned on Hanreid. "He's cold, but his skin is clammy with sweat. You know what that means for a fire wielder."

The other lord didn't back down before Gwendal's anger. "He stays with me. My physician can tend to him. Put him down!"

Yuuri tensed. No way were they leaving Wolfram here. His next words came instinctively. "Our healers are the best in Shin Makoku." He spoke up in a voice as clear and confident as he imagined a real king might use. "I insist that we tend to Wolfram's health, as you are a guest of Blood Pledge Castle."

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri caught Murata's brief approving nod, but he didn't break eye contact with Hanreid. "We will take him to our hospital. You may follow with your party, I'm sure you'll need the time to make your arrangements. When you arrive, we will have a suite of rooms ready for your stay."

"Out of the question," the nobleman barked, forgetting or deliberately omitting the honorifics protocol required. "Wolfram stays with me!"

To Yuuri's – and everyone else's – surprise, the sorcerer spoke up in support of his suggestion.

"My Lord, it might be wise to accept His Majesty's kind offer." It was the first time Yuuri had heard the man's voice. It was thick and deep, like velvet if it had a sound. "Their medical facilities are surely better equipped than I am at this moment. I am also sure that my experience in the delivery arts is far from equal to that of their healers. Lord von Voltaire's assessment of his brother's condition is accurate. It is best for him and the baby to do as Yuuri Heika has suggested and allow his party to transport Lord Wolfram to the Castle hospital."

Yuuri watched Hanreid's battle with common sense flicker in his eyes for several seconds before the man nodded reluctantly.

"You're right. Of course you're right. Do what you can for my wolf cub." He bowed to him in an expression of apology. "And pardon my strong reaction, Heika. You will understand my anxiety when you know the truth your councilors have hidden from you."

If anyone else had spoken so contritely, Yuuri might have been taken in by the performance. But he'd seen the man's true face, what he did to Wolfram. Instead of railing at him – or worse as the spirit of the Maoh within him growled – he gave him a terse nod of his head.

Gwendal turned on his heel, and strode quickly toward the door. Yuuri followed in his wake, Murata behind him, with Conrad moving smoothly into a position that allowed him to cover the two men whose gazes Yuuri felt burning into his back. He moved around Gwendal and grabbed the door handle.

"We're coming out," he warned the guards outside the door then opened it and allowed the others to exit before closing it firmly. Once he joined them in the hall, Yuuri asked his godfather, "Do we leave guards?"

Conrad sheathed his own weapon as Gwendal's soldiers moved to flank their small party. "No point. They apparently have the ability to step through air to get from one place to another. And as much as I might wish it, Hanreid is not going to conveniently vanish from our lives."

The innkeeper stood white faced at his desk with hands clenched and watched them leave with one more person than they'd come with. Yuuri felt for him, but Wolfram was his main concern right now and getting him to Gisela top priority. He'd send some kind of apology note later.

Out on the street across the way a white carriage tricked out with fresh flowers and bright ribbons waited. It had an open front with only the seat facing forward sheltered from the elements. With the coachman's seat at the back behind the awning-like cover, it reminded Yuuri of the hansom cabs of his own world.

A pair of overawed stable boys stood holding the leads of the two horses hitched to it and trying to pretend they had no interest at all in the mysterious goings on in front of the inn.

"Hey!" Yuuri waved at them as he crossed the road. He gave them a friendly smile on reaching the side of the fancy rig. "Is this carriage for hire?"

The boy with red curls peeking out from under his livery cap turned bright red in the torchlight and bowed, too shy apparently to answer. His companion had no such problem.

"No, Majesty, It's Master Orlath's rig, of the weaver's guild. He's new wed and stayin' at the Laughing Cockerel for the honeymoon. He's takin' his lady for a moonlit ride as a surprise."

Conrad joined them, Murata and Gwendal with his burden in his wake. "His Majesty has urgent need of your carriage. Our companion has taken ill, he cannot ride his horse," he explained. "Rest assured that your trap will be returned immediately after we reach Blood Pledge Castle, and your master properly compensated."

His godfather tossed each boy a coin that made their eyes go so wide they shown white in the dim light.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir, we'll tell 'em, sir!" And they ran off to the inn to inform their master of the singular honor the Maoh had given.

"This thing won't hold us all." Murata stepped back. "Go on without me, I'll see that your horses get back before I go to the temple. I have a feeling we're going to want to consult with Ulrike before this is through."

"Unfortunately, I expect you are right," Gwendal said, shifting his grip on

The others joined them as Yuuri climbed in and sat down. Conrad helped Gwendal ease their brother's limp body through the door and settle him on the seat so his head rested in Yuuri's lap.

"I'll drive," Gwendal said and climbed up into the driver's seat, gathered up the reins, and with a click of his tongue set the horses trotting.

Yuuri pressed the palm of his hand over Wolfram's forehead to test for fever. Wolfram lashes fluttered and for a moment, he peered around in confusion. Yuuri squeezed his shoulder, "It'll be okay, Wolf. You're safe. We're taking you home."

Half-focused eyes stared at him. "And Hanreid let you?"

"He agreed that it was best." Feeling his cheeks flush, he continued, "And it's not as if we'd give him a choice if he hadn't."

Instead of being reassured, Wolfram tensed. "He's plotting something," he whispered hoarsely. "They've never let me out of their control before."

"Wolfram…."

Then suddenly tears were flowing over the hollowed cheeks. Yuuri sat with his mouth agape as the other boy stared up at him. He didn't know what to say in the face of the despair in those green eyes.

"I'm so sorry! It's my fault, I didn't stop him. I should have died before I let him do this to me!"

"_Never_ say that again!" Leaning down, Yuuri wrapped his arms around his friend and gave him an awkward hug. "I don't care what happened. I'm just glad to have you back. I was so scared for you."

Wolfram kept on as if he hadn't heard him. "I'm carrying his baby, Yuuri, don't you understand? When the Aristocrats learn…. Everything's ruined!"

His growing hysteria frightened him. Yuuri tried to reassure him, calm him. "We know you're the victim here, Wolfram, and the other Aristocrats will realize that too once we explain. And Hanreid will pay for what he's done."

"Don't trust him, Yuuri. No matter what, don't give him what he wants."

He nodded and soothed the sweated hair back again. "We won't, I promise. Don't think about it for now. All that can wait until you're well again."

But being pregnant – impossibly pregnant – wasn't a sickness to be healed. God, what _were_ they going to do?

Suddenly, without warning, Wolfram was fighting to sit up and reaching for the handle of the carriage door. Conrad reached out from the opposite seat to help restrain him.

"Greta! Let go, I have to protect her!"

Yuuri did his best to hold Wolfram's body still while Conrad restrained the flailing arms.

"It's alright, Wolfram!" his godfather tried to pierce the delirium. "Greta is safe in her bed by now. You'll see for yourself soon."

"No, she's _not_ safe! I have to guard her, they promised but I don't trust them."

Yuuri got an unintended slap to the face that made him wince. "You know I'll keep her safe, Wolfram, so please calm down!"

Wolfram went still, though not for long. Panting like a long distance runner, he peered up into his face. Too bright green eyes searched for something for the space of two breaths, but whatever they sought must not have been there.

"You don't believe me. You won't be careful enough!"

With a thin cry, he wrenched free briefly and made another grab for the door. Wolfram's efforts to escape them grew more frantic with each second, causing the impromptu blankets covering him to fall away. Conrad reached down, groped for and grabbed the throw.

"Hold him as best you can!"

"No! Stop it!"

And while Yuuri tried to restrain him – even sick the blond was proving to be more than a match for him – Conrad used the cloth to swaddle his brother into immobility.

"Please, Conrart! I have to protect her!"

"Wolfram, you need to focus on yourself right now. Our people will take care of Greta."

"It's not enough!" Somehow Wolfram managed to clench a fist in his brother's tunic front. "Give me your word and I know you'll protect her even if you think I'm crazed. Swear to me!"

Conrad cupped a hand over Wolfram's shaking one where it rested over his heart and gave a solemn nod. "You have my word, little brother, my life between any threat and your daughter."

Wolfram gave him a smile of relief and let his head fall forward to rest on Conrad's chest, "Thank you."

And as if that was all he'd been waiting for, Wolfram finally relaxed. Conrad settled him across his lap and cradled the smaller boy in his arms. Yuuri smiled in relief at the sight of the youngest brother snuggling close to the brother he'd once tried so hard to resent.

"It's safe for you to rest now, Wolf," his godfather's whisper stirred wisps of sunny gold hair.

Yuuri gathered up the Gwendal's heavy green coat from the floor of the carriage and draped it over Wolfram again. Wolfram's eyelids closed in what he tried to believe was sleep. But when he pressed a palm to the blond boy's too white face, he felt clammy sweat covering cool skin. In all the years he'd known Wolfram, he had always felt warm. His radiated heat on cold winter nights was better than a bed warmer. His chest tightened with his fear. Something was very wrong.

"He's so cold. I didn't think fire demons got cold."

"No, they don't" and his worry found its twin in his godfather's voice. "He's going into shock." Conrad tucked the coat closer around Wolfram. "We're nearly at Blood Pledge Castle. Gisela is likely with our mother. As soon as we arrive, find Gisela and bring her to the infirmary. We'll meet you there with Wolfram."

The next couple minutes were the longest in Yuuri's life. He felt so helpless watching pain twist his friend's face even while he was unconscious. He didn't dare try to help. He might do more harm than good. His healing skills, like most Mazoku, were enough to deal with minor physical injuries. Only those with the healing gift and specialized training could deal with anything more. All he could do was hold the limp hand between his own and try to share his body's warmth as Wolfram had done for him on so many winter nights.

"Everything's going to be alright, Wolf," he told him over and over. "I'm here."

It might have been his imagination or wishful thinking, but Wolfram actually seemed to begin to rest more easily.

Gwendal pulled into the courtyard at near-reckless speed. The second the coach came to a full stop, he yelled for a stretcher. Yuuri moved to open the carriage door for Conrad and his burden.

The second his hands no longer touched him, Wolfram screamed.

Yuuri fell back onto the carriage floor, staring as his fiancé writhed so frantically in Conrad's arms that he nearly dropped him. Terror and guilt sickened him. Had he hurt him somehow? What if…?

"Yuuri, go!"

He scrambled to his feet and hit the courtyard running. Gisela, medical satchel in hand, was already coming out of her office as he arrived at the door.

"Yuuri Heika, you're back! Did you find Wolfram?"

He nodded, panting. "They're bringing him here. He's hurting bad. I think he's miscarrying."

Yuuri expected her to say something like, "What do you mean miscarrying?" or "What are talking about?" In a million years, he'd never have guessed what came out of the green-haired healer's mouth.

"How did you know he was pregnant?"

"Wha…? How did _you_ know?"

Time ran out for questions. Two of Gwendal's man came through the swinging doors with Wolfram on a stretcher and his brothers on either side to prevent him from falling off. Gisela took it all in at a glance, snapped out, "We'll talk later," at him, then followed her patient inside the treatment area, ordering everyone out once they had Wolfram carefully settled on one of the beds and closing the door in their faces.

Gwendal sent the two bearers off to return the borrowed carriage and throw to their owners. Conrad stared at the door to the surgery, obviously conflicted. Yuuri remembered the promise he'd made to his brother.

"Go, Conrad. We'll send word as soon as we know anything."

"Thank you, Yuuri." He turned on his heel and strode out.

Yuuri almost smiled. That was twice in a row that Conrad had called him by his name without a reminder. If only the situation wasn't so dire, he might have teased him about it.

Gwendal followed his second brother's brisk retreat with his eyes then turned to him for an explanation.

"Wolfram made him promise to guard Greta. It was the only way we could calm him."

The eldest brother nodded, "Wolfram must've had good reason to make such a request. And considering who we are dealing with, I suggest we take it very seriously."

Restless, Yuuri paced the waiting room, only half listening to Gwendal making arrangements to increase Greta's security detail. Once that was done the eldest brother took a seat on the padded bench provided for people waiting for patients or their turn with the healers. After a while, Gwendal spoke to him.

"You might as well sit down, Heika. Pacing only serves to waste energy. It's been a very long day. Gisela will bring us a report as soon as she knows anything."

After a few more strides, Yuuri admitted to himself that Gwendal was right. He sat next to his counselor and dragged his fingers through his hair.

"How is it even possible? It's barely been an hour!"

Gwendal shook his head slowly. "I can't explain it. Nothing like this has ever happened before." The deep voice took on the threatening timber that Yuuri had only ever heard in battle situations. "But Hanreid knows and I intent to find out what he did to my brother, even if I have to wring his neck to do it."

Yuuri stared at the surgery door. If it came down to that, he realized with a jolt, he had absolutely no problem with it.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid stepped out of the suite's bathroom tugging the sleeves of his ruffled shirt until they hung properly below the cuffs of his suit jacket. He'd waited until the sound of his guests descending the staircase to the lobby faded before sending the sorcerer out to arrange with his escort to depart in a few hours. He took advantage of the opportunity to wash and change into fresh clothes. When he arrived at Blood Pledge Castle, he fully intended to make an unforgettable impression – the first of many.

Walking over to the sideboard where a decanter of red wine waited, he poured himself a glass before stretching out on the double bed to await the sorcerer's return. His eyes wandered to the divan where his little performance had left such a horrified expression on the Maoh's face. His show of resistance to their taking Wolfram away had been the final brush stroke to the picture he wanted in Yuuri Heika's mind when they next met.

Everything had gone as he'd intended. Well, almost everything. A pity von Voltaire wasn't the first through the door as he'd intended. The man's sense of duty should have ensured he entered before his king. Hanreid took a sip of his drink. Ah, well, in the grand scheme, it didn't matter. In a few hours, he'd be in a position to use his wolf cub to torment von Voltaire and Celia to his heart's content.

The door swung open to let the hooded magic wielder make his silent way in.

"Is everything ready?'

"Yes, My Lord. You will be able to depart within two hours. The innkeeper didn't object too loudly, especially after I told him to keep the night's rate. It seems he no longer sees you as a proper guest for his establishment."

Hanreid snorted, "My heart bleeds. Stop hovering like a vulture and sit down, relax while we wait."

The sorcerer remained on his feet, the silence between them screaming. Hanreid sighed and took another sip. "Alright, get it off your chest."

"Why did you not follow the plan and only molest your husband?"

Was that a hint of censure in the sorcerer's voice? After all these years, had he finally done something to crack that perfect façade? He shrugged indifferently while paying closer attention to the other man's reactions.

"At your insistence, I have restrained my urges all these months, a none-too-easy feat might I add. Wolfram is a feast I've denied myself for far too long. I happen to think the real thing had a far more dramatic effect, all that … evidence in front of their eyes. What's the harm?"

"More than you apparently understand, despite my explanations."

Frowning into the shadows that masked the sorcerer's features, Hanreid warned, "Remember your place, magic man."

"Forgive me, Lord von Hanreid," the hooded head inclined in a show of respect Hanreid knew to be false. "But I had good reasons to make such a demand of you. As you know, this pregnancy is not natural. The balance we've achieved is quite precarious. You must take more care if you wish this child to be born healthy."

Hanreid swirled the remnants of his drink and stared at his servant, watching for any tells that might escape his iron control. "You warned against intercourse with my husband. I didn't penetrate him vaginally."

"It isn't just the direct stress on the womb we have to worry about." Yes, there was definitely irritation in his voice. "Since we've been on the road, Lord Wolfram's body has begun the process of purging itself of the drugs that we've constantly plied him with since his capture. The adrenaline surges resulting from rape could easily overcome their waning effect. My spells aren't enough to counter them. You run the risk of Wolfram's body rejecting the baby."

Hanreid shrugged, "I'm aware of all that. Why do you think I insisted on this journey?" He finished off the wine and set the stemmed goblet on the bedside table. "You said it yourself. You lack the skills of a trained Mazoku healer. Having a true healer in attendance at the birth will ensure the safe delivery of my son. I considered bringing a healer to our little sanctuary for the birth, but we both know he or she could never be allowed to leave alive. Imagine the outcry if a healer vanished. There'd be search parties poking into every corner of the kingdom. If the right people compared notes, they might have come to the right conclusions. I didn't need the additional risk of anyone discovering the truth. No, much better to take my wolf cub to a healer. Yuuri Heika spoke the truth. The healers at Blood Pledge Castle are the best in Shin Makoku, all the more reason to bring him here."

Not to mention the added bonus of witnessing with his own eyes the misery of the people who had thwarted his desires for so many years as they watched day after day the swell of his child in Wolfram's belly.

"You aren't worried," the magic wielder asked, his voice once again flat and unreadable, "that a taste of freedom might give your husband an appetite for more?"

"Never happen. My wolf cub knows his new place in the world now." Hanreid closed his eyes to better savor the delicious memories of taming that fiery spirit. "I'll be more than happy to shatter his illusions if he ever forgets."

"Keep his condition in mind if it comes to that. You need him whole for a while longer yet."

The façade slipped again. Hanreid heard the "I" behind the "You." He opened his eyes the barest slit to peer at his sorcerer. Interesting. It seemed his magic wielder needed Wolfram alive for his own reasons.

"Never fear. I know how far to push and when to pull back. You are right. Wolfram is my key into Blood Pledge Castle and the Maoh's inner circle." And so much more. "That is reason enough to restrain my darker urges. I intend to get many years of pleasure out of my precious husband before I am done with him." Hanreid gave the sorcerer a dismissive wave of his free hand. "There's not much time before we leave this place. I suggest you get some rest yourself. I may have need of your defensive skills when we make our entrance at Blood Pledge Castle."

"By your leave, my lord, I think I will use the time to spy out the situation there ahead of our arrival."

"Do as you please. Be back here before our departure though."

"Yes, my lord."

Spidery hands lifted to weave through the air. The shadows gathered around him to the rhythm set by the dance of his fingers. He stepped into the midst of them and vanished. The man clung to darkness like an infant to its mother's teat. For all Hanreid knew, shadows actually nourished his most valuable servant. Not that it mattered to him, so long as the sorcerer did what he wanted of him.

Lacing his fingers over his chest, Hanreid stared at the canopy overhead to contemplate what he had learned and how best to incorporate the new knowledge into his schemes.

He had known all along that the man who kept himself a mystery aided him only because it served his own plans, but the man had done an excellent job of concealing them from him. He was the only one who got to use his Wolfram. He'd find out just what the magic man wanted with Wolfram then put a stop to it.

A pity that. The sorcerer had proven to be a definite asset when it came to his vices and very useful. With his aid, he'd accelerated his progress toward his chosen destiny by decades. Finding a replacement spell weaver with the same kindred spirit and magical caliber was going to most inconvenient.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! Please review. This is my first attempt at writing an "M" story – constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Wolfram has been rescued but is now on the verge of giving birth – if he survives the night. With his fiancé and the baby at death's door, Yuuri must face Hanreid and an impossible offer. Don't miss **Chapter 7: The Devil's Bargain.**_


	7. The Devil's Bargain

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_First my apologies for taking so long to post. Time isn't as available as I'd hoped yet, and this chapter got away from me. The good news is that after breaking it up, I have a nearly complete Chapter 8 so I expect to post it within two weeks, sooner if I can manage it. Next, my thanks to all of you following, reviewing, and making this story – and me! – a favorite. You really do inspire me!_

_Warnings for this chapter: implied non-con in conversation, nothing "physical." Please review to let me know how I'm doing._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 7: The Devil's Bargain**

Light from the rising sun has chased out the hazed shadows cast by the torches illuminating the bench-lined hallway and still no news. Lady Celi had joined them soon after Wolfram went into the surgery. Her usually impeccable hair mussed and still in her party finery, she greeted him with a watery smile and sat beside him on the bench. Yuuri had patted her hand where it twisted in the fine fabric of her shirts and they sat that way through most of the night.

Several times, Yuuri dozed off only to wake with a guilty start. Finally, in the wee hours of the night, Gwendal unexpectedly pulled him down so his head rested on his folded coat, the same one they'd used to keep Wolfram warm on the way home.

"Sleep." Yuuri had never heard his voice so gentle. "We'll wake you when word comes."

The few hours of rest had helped a lot, but the fact that they were uninterrupted just added to his worry. Yuuri told himself that no news was better than bad news but he really preferred to have good news. With a moan, he buried his face in his palms and tried to rub the weariness out of his eyes.

The sound of a child's running bare feet made him sit up and find a smile for his daughter. She took one look around, saw Wolfram must still be with the healers, and her hopeful expression crumbled.

Yuuri opened his arms to catch Greta as she threw herself into his embrace. He felt her trembling against his chest and hugged her tight.

Conrad entered the hospice on her heels, his face showing no signs of fatigue though Yuuri knew he hadn't slept at all last night, keeping his promise to his little brother.

"I told Greta that Wolfram was too ill for visitors and Gisela wasn't going to make any exceptions," the brown-eyed brother explained. "She insisted on keeping vigil with us even if she can't see him."

Relief swept through him and Yuuri mouthed 'Thank you' over the nest of auburn curls under his chin. He had no idea how to explain Wolfram's condition to their little girl. His godfather's careful truth bought them time. Right now he needed to reassure her.

"Of course you can sit with us." Yuuri eased her back a little to take in her mussed hair, nightgown, and bare feet. "But you really should have taken time to dress. Run around this drafty old castle like that and you'll catch cold." He thumbed away a tear on her cheek and settled her in his lap. "As soon as we learn how Wolfram is doing, you have to go back to your room to dress, okay?"

"Yes, Yuuri." Greta leaned back in the curve of his arms with her gaze locked on the door that stood between them and Wolfram.

And so he waited with his second family. Another half hour passed before Gisela emerged. Yuuri struggled to his feet, Greta still in his arms. She closed the door gently behind her before he could get a peek inside.

Everyone was standing by the time she turned to them. The tension in his gut tightened. Her eyes had stress circles under them and she looked ready to drop. She must have used a lot of her maryoku to treat Wolfram.

Lady Celi jumped forward and reached for the healer's hands, her heart in her eyes. "Is my Wolvie going to be alright?"

The green-haired woman's offering of a tiny smile eased the knot in his chest. Yuuri literally felt the tension in the waiting area flow away at this sign of the good news they'd all been praying for.

"We've got him stabilized," she reported. With a cry of relief that was almost a sob, Lady Celi embraced the younger woman.

"For now at least," Gisela went on when she could speak again.

Oh, he didn't like the sound of that.

Gisela's glance went from Greta to Yuuri. He shook his head slightly and she blinked in understanding. "He needs total bed rest and quiet until he's recovered. I've given him a mild sedative to help him sleep. The healing wore him out. I'm keeping him here for now where my staff and I can monitor his condition."

"When can we see him?" Conrad asked for all of them.

"That depends on how he weathers the night." The petite woman gave Greta's hair a comforting caress, "If he rests well, I'll allow brief visits tomorrow afternoon."

Only with those words did Yuuri relax. Things were still bad, but he felt better knowing Wolfram was out of immediate danger.

"It was poison, wasn't it?"

Greta's soft, unexpected question stunned the adults around her into silence. Yuuri stared down at the top of her head in shock. They'd been so worried about concealing Wolfram's impossible pregnancy that they'd forgotten what other explanations Greta, with her background, might come up with.

"Definitely not!" he insisted.

The sad fact was that she came from a kingdom torn by unrest where assassination was a popular method of regime change. She'd been old enough to understand and be affected by the whispered intrigues of court before she left Zoracca. That had to color her interpretation of events.

Once, not long after he adopted her, Wolfram brought it up with him. They decided then to give their daughter happier memories. He was even more determined to do exactly that now he was back again. They'd had barely a week to enjoy being together before all this happened.

Hanreid had a lot to answer for.

Gisela backed up his assertion. "Wolfram's illness has an entirely difference cause, and once I have all the facts, I promise to sit down with you and explain everything." She glanced around to include them all.

The infirmary door opened and one of Gisela's trainees poked his head through the gap.

"Excuse me, Sergeant, but Lord von Bielefeld is fighting the medication. He keeps calling for His Majesty."

"He can't afford to waste his strength like that," Gisela scowled. "Yuuri Heika? Would you mind coming with me? Your sitting with Wolfram might ease his mind enough for the sleeping draught to do its job."

"Of course, but…" He looked at Greta as he set her on her feet. She was practically bouncing with the hope that she might be included.

Gwendal saved him from having to disappoint her again. He gathered up his coat from the bench, draped it over his arm, and then crouched before her.

"Why don't you spend the day with me in my office, Greta? Gisela will send word there on Wolfram's condition so we'll be the first to know."

Her expression brightened a little. "You mean I don't have to do lessons today?" his little girl asked as her uncle picked her up in the other arm so she didn't have to cross the cold hall floors again.

"You're smart enough that skipping a day won't hurt. I'm sure your tutors will be glad of a day off." Gwendal gave his middle brother a warning. "Get some sleep, Conrart."

His godfather raised an eyebrow. "Is that an order?"

"Does it have to be?"

"No, I suppose not."

He almost managed his trademark smile as he gave Yuuri a brief bow. "Your Majesty."

Yuuri didn't bother to correct him. It had been a long night for all of them.

As Conrad passed her, Lady Celi linked arms with her second son. "I'll see to it that Conrart gets his rest."

"Mother."

Celi pressed a finger to his lips. "Please, let me do this for you? It will take my mind off Wolfram for a while. Otherwise I might storm Gisela's gates."

His godfather nodded in understanding and let her lead him out, Gwendal following behind with Greta.

Gisela didn't wait for them to leave to head back through the door. Yuuri quickly followed her to the back of the infirmary and the private rooms for the very sick patients.

"You were right, Yuuri Heika," she said as they walked along. "Wolfram had gone into premature labor, possibly triggered by too much physical and emotional stress. Fortunately, his water didn't break and we were able to arrest the contractions. He and the baby are fine for now, but he needs complete bed rest."

Yuuri swallowed hard, the vision of Wolfram delivering with no healer in sight in that room with that awful man hovering like a vulture rising unwelcome in his mind.

"Is … his condition natural in Shin Makoku?"

Gisela gave him a look that was somewhere between amused and indulgent. "Nothing can defy time, Yuuri, not even magic. It takes months for a pregnant Mazoku to reach this stage. How months can pass in hours is beyond anything I've ever read or heard. We don't even have folktales telling of such a circumstance. I've sent word to the temple with an aide I trust. Perhaps Lady Ulrike or the Great Wise Man can provide some insights."

When they reached Wolfram's room, she stopped and ordered with deadly seriousness. "Once you're inside, say nothing to upset him. No matter what he wants tell him you'll do it, ease his mind. The sleeping potion, and his own exhaustion, will do the rest. And whatever you do, don't use your maryoku."

She pushed through the curtained door of the last room without explaining further. He entered in her wake, storing up another question for later.

It was a simple room, a bed and a folding screen for privacy with a single chair for visitors. The curtains over the single window had been drawn tight to block the growing morning sunlight and encourage Wolfram to sleep.

The blond wasn't having any of it. He lay on his side in the hospital bed, shaking his head dazedly in his efforts to stave off the effects of whatever potion the healer had given him.

Yuuri pulled the armchair closer to the bedside. Once he took a seat, he reached out to grasp Wolfram's nearest hand between his and called in a voice as calm as he could manage.

"Wolf? It's me. Gisela tells me you've been asking for me. Here I am."

"Yuuri?" Pale eyelids dragged slowly up to half mast. The pupils were so dilated they eclipsed the vivid green of his eyes "Greta…."

"She's fine," he reassured him and gave his hand a squeeze for emphasis. "Conrad stayed with her all night, and Gwendal's with her now. I swear to you, she'll never be left alone. So it's okay for you to sleep."

Wolfram shook his head against the pillow, "No. He'll be coming for me."

His voice was getting thicker and his eyes closing as he finally began to sink into sleep. Yuuri gently massaged the back of his trembling hand with his thumbs.

"And we'll be there to stop him."

Yuuri watched the shadow of pain ease from the gaunt face as sleep overtook Wolfram. Only when he began to snore softly did Yuuri release Wolfram's hand and set it carefully on the bed. He stood and gazed on his friend, remembering what he'd seen, what Hanreid had claimed. His hands began to shake with the emotions roiling inside him. Yuuri clenched them into fists.

"We'll fix this," he promised Wolfram though he couldn't hear him. "I swear it."

-o0O0o-

Hanreid waited with apparent calm while, once again the sentry denied him entrance while they waited for the arrival of Lord Gwendal von Voltaire. Well, this time the tall aristocrat had to let him in. And one day soon, he'd be the one escorting him to the back gate.

He had to wonder if news had spread yet. He doubted it. The King's consort pregnant with no chance he fathered the child? Voltaire and his cronies would do anything to avoid such a scandal short of murder.

All his plans hinged on that flaw in their characters.

Still, the guard kept giving him dirty glances. Perhaps the rumor mill had already started grinding. Or more likely, he guessed, it had something to do with his servant.

His sorcerer stood behind him and to his left, hooded cloak casting his angular face into the usual disturbing shadows. He liked doing things like that, creating an air of menace and mystery around himself with every word and gesture. Hanreid didn't mind, so long as he benefited from the other's games.

The soldier sent to bring what the guards thought would be permission to send him on his way returned with the word Hanreid had been expecting.

"Lord von Hanreid's arrival has been anticipated," he announced with a stone face. "Rooms have been prepared, if you will follow me?"

"Of course."

As he passed the stiff sentries, Hanreid made sure to lock their faces in his memory. He had a place there for everyone who ever slighted or impeded him in his plans, along with a plan to get them back.

The guide led them to a nice enough suite on the far side of the castle, consisting of a small sitting room with two arm chairs and a desk under the archer slit window and a bedroom with two single beds. Nothing he didn't expect. Von Voltaire and Lady Celi weren't likely to welcome him with open arms. In their shoes, he too would do his best to make him as uncomfortable as possible without crossing the line into insult. Still he had no intention of letting it pass without comment.

"This seems rather small for guest quarters."

"I've been asked to offer apologies, Lord von Hanreid. Each of the visiting Aristocrats, as well as the dignitaries from the allied countries, has taken up residence in Blood Pledge Castle for the celebrations and talks. This is the best we can offer at this time."

The diplomatic excuse actually made sense, though he preferred his own interpretation. "Oh, very well then. We will, I'm sure, be moved to more suitable quarters when all the festivities have ended. We have yet to break our fast. See that something is sent up, will you?"

"Yes, Lord von Hanreid."

"And have my servants bring up the luggage."

With a stiff bow, the soldier left them, his stride clipped and brisk.

As soon as they were alone, Hanreid turned to his sorcerer who had shadowed him the entire time in a loaded silence.

"Well? You've been itching to say something all night. Out with it."

Thin pale hands rose to push back the voluminous hood. Not that seeing that austere face uncovered gave any clue to the magic wielder's inner workings. He'd only ever witnessed any kind of emotion from him during the rituals they conducted in the sublevels of his home.

"You pay me a significant sum for my expertise, My Lord. Will you heed my words?"

Hanreid flapped a hand in his direction, granting permission.

"You play your hand too soon. Against my counsel, you molest the boy to the point he nearly miscarries the child you know is vital to your plans. You taunt your enemies before you have solidified your position. Consider what you risk if you continue down this path."

He barked a laugh. "For a man who claims to wield the most powerful magic in Shin Makoku, you seem awfully skittish."

The dark-robed shoulders lifted in a shrug. "In my profession, you learn caution early or you die young."

"Though failure in both cases has permanent consequences, necromancy and kingmaking cannot be judged by the same measure. I'd been on this path for decades before I found you." With a huff of air, Hanreid dropped into the nearest wing chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, and relaxed. "Trust me to know how and where best to tread."

When he gazed up at the sorcerer, disapproval still sparked in the eyes staring out of the intricately tattooed face. No human hand penned those mystic symbols. Hanreid had been the fascinated witness to the birth of several of them. They represented his magic. The more elaborate the pattern when they appeared, the greater the level of power he gained access to. Hanreid supposed when he achieved the ultimate power that the man no doubt sought, his skin would be the shifting black of a moonless night sky.

"I have everyone exactly where I want them, and Wolfram is the blade I will use to force them down the paths I choose."

Hanreid burst to his feet, ignoring the sorcerer's headshake at what he no doubt thought his overconfidence. He walked over to the small desk where pen and parchment waited for his use.

"And it's high time to take the next step."

He took a seat and began writing the letter that had been waiting more than eighty years for this day.

-o0O0o-

The sensation of fingers gently stroking his arm pulled him gradually out of sleep. Panic nearly tore him away from whoever it was but the voice in his dreams whispered, "It is safe." So Wolfram lay still and opened his eyes.

Wide brown eyes stared back, tearing up as the lips beneath them curled up into a brave smile. She was safe, they had taken him seriously. He returned her smile as best he could.

"Don't cry, Greta." His voice was little more than a feeble whisper. He forced himself to speak with more vigor. "I'm fine."

The little girl grabbed his hand and admonished him, "You don't have to lie. Gisela told me you and the baby are sick and you have to stay in bed to get better."

"Well, we're in good hands, aren't we, so don't worry. You'll visit me every day so I don't get bored?"

Greta grinned in promise, "Twice a day!"

"Even better." The sensation that he still wasn't used to rippled through his abdomen. "Do you want to feel the baby?"

Auburn curls flew with the vigor of his nod. Wolfram lifted her hand and placed it carefully on his stomach.

"Oh. Oh!"

A look of happy wonder came over her face, such a contrast to his own reaction the first time he felt his baby move, when he had proof that Hanreid had done the impossible and fathered a child on him. It had been miles from happy and nothing to be proud of.

"Baby, this is your big sister Greta."

He felt the baby shift under Greta's hand, almost as if responding to his words and her touch. Greta gazed at him, excited, almost back to her usual exuberant self.

"I think the baby likes me."

"So do I."

"Of course."

Wolfram lifted his gaze over Greta's head to see Yuuri backing in with a bed tray full of breakfast dishes. Oddly enough, for the first time in weeks he actually felt like eating something.

"Family always knows family," he finished with the dopey grin that always warmed Wolfram's day, no matter the weather. "Gisela said you should eat what you can without stuffing yourself, so I brought a little of everything Cook had, including stuff for a tender stomach. The whole kitchen staff sends you best wishes for a speedy recovery."

Giving the tray a dubious once over, Wolfram replied, "I can't eat all of this. It'll go to waste."

"Greta and I are joining you."

Yuuri set the tray on a cot that had been set up next to his bed. Wolfram remembered. Yuuri had spent the night there. His own sleep had not been restful as he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. With each waking, he'd expected to find Hanreid leering down at him. Instead he'd opened his eyes to be immeasurably comforted by the outline of Yuuri sleeping on the cot or gazing into his face out of the darkness and whispering, "I'm here, it's safe."

It had been so long since he'd felt safe.

"Come on, let's sit you up."

With the care he'd afford a delicate crystal sculpture, Yuuri eased him up into his arms and held him while Greta piled up pillows behind him. Wolfram let himself rest into an embrace he knew would not end in pain while he could. He also knew that he no longer had a right to accept that comfort, trapped as he was in marriage to Gregor von Hanreid. But he'd treasure moments like this until Hanreid came to take him back.

By the time they eased him back into the supporting cushions, his heart was pounding like a hummingbird's wings. He sneaked a glance at Yuuri and any hope that no one noticed his condition died. His fiancé's posture, gaze, even the way he fussed with the pillows, shouted worry. He didn't want Greta to pick up on it or how serious his condition really was.

"Hurry with that tray, wimp," he ordered as imperiously as he could manage, "I will not have you starving our daughter."

At Greta's giggle, Yuuri's expression cleared and his grin returned. He did as he'd been told and boosted Greta so she sat beside him on his bed. They took turns passing him tidbits from the selection of rolls, fruits, eggs, and other dishes Cook has prepared. Everything tasted delicious. He'd been eating tainted food for so long that his tongue had forgotten what it was supposed to taste like.

He must have drifted off because he opened his eyes to find Greta and the tray gone, Gisela covering his prone body with a light sheet, and Yuuri heading out the door.

"Don't go!" Wolfram heard the panic in his voice but didn't care. A part of him knew somehow that he needed him here with him.

Yuuri returned immediately to take his outstretched hand and reassure him. "I'm not leaving you. Gwendal and I have a meeting with one of the visiting dignitaries; then I'll be right back, I promise."

"It's Hanreid, isn't it?" Fear surged through his chest, a response his unwanted husband had burned into his body, but he pushed it down fiercely and warned around it, "Don't take his word at face value. He is made of hatred and is a master of deceit. There is nothing good in him. Trust nothing he says or does!"

Black eyes shown with a different kind of light as Yuuri nodded. "Believe me, we won't. We will break whatever hold he has on you, Wolf," he promised earnestly. "You're home and we're keeping you. Try to get some sleep. I'll be back soon."

Wolfram tightened his grip when he started to pull away and asked a question that had haunted him since the day Hanreid married him. "Do you hate me?"

"What in the…. Where did that come from?"

"I betrayed you, Yuuri," he confessed with tears running down his cheeks unheeded. "When he wed me, I said yes. When he claimed me, I didn't stop him. By our laws I belong to him now. We no longer have a future and it's my fault."

"We'll fix that."

Blinking before that unreasoning confidence, Wolfram opened his mouth to set his fiancé – former fiancé – straight. Yuuri placed a finger across his lips.

"Hanreid kidnapped you, Wolfram. Whatever followed, I know he forced on you. I won't let him get away with it." Wolfram shook his head. This was his Yuuri, confident despite the facts that good always triumphed over evil. "Believe this, Wolfram von Bielefeld. I can never hate you. And this baby," he placed his free hand oh so gently on the swell of his stomach, "this precious life is _your_ child. I don't care if Hanreid is the father. _We_ are going to be the parents, okay? So…don't cry anymore."

Stunned, Wolfram only nodded and stared after him until Yuuri was out of sight. When Gisela took his wrist to measure his heart rate, he turned to her.

"He's not setting me aside."

"Doesn't sound like it," his oldest friend teased.

"I was so afraid that he'd reject me."

Voice brisk as her manner, the healer tucked the sheet around him as she declared, "Nonsense."

Sleep settled over him and he smiled, at peace for the first time in what felt like forever. "They told me he wouldn't but I didn't dare to hope."

"Who told you? Wolfram?"

He didn't see the curious expression on Gisela's face. He heard the question but he was too far gone in his exhaustion to formulate an answer, let alone speak it. When he next woke, neither would remember to bring it up again.

-o0O0o-

Twenty minutes late. The man had the nerve to insist on this meeting and _he's_ late. Cup of mulled cider ignored in his hand, Yuuri paced, feeling like a tiger trapped in a too-small enclosure. He'd rather be with Wolfram. The look on the blonde boy's face when he left for this meeting haunted him. It reminded him too much of the Wolfram in his dream when he had failed to protect him from the Shadow Man. Considering what that nightmare monster had been doing and Wolfram's true fate, he wondered if the dream had been some kind of premonition.

"You must calm yourself, Heika." Gunter's light, serious voice reached through his preoccupation. He gestured to the cup in his hand. "Finish your drink."

"Why? I'm not that thirsty."

"It will give you a boost of energy. Von Hanreid is devious and manipulative. He insisted on this meeting so soon no doubt to put us off balance," his adviser explained. "A man deprived of sleep is at a disadvantage, especially in emotionally charged situations. When Hanreid does get here, he expects to find you in a state that he can easily manipulate to get whatever it is he wants. Don't give him that satisfaction."

He was right. Yuuri knew that Gunter was right. Hanreid was the worst kind of monster. Demons like him fueled the negative rumors about Mazoku that ran rampant in the human territories. He was also smart, without a moral compass. He'd raped Wolfram with deliberation, timing his assault to their arrival, his intention to burn that image into Gwendal's and Conrad's heads. Fortunately, his own actions had prevented that. They knew what had happened but only he and Murata had actually seen anything.

Until now Yuuri had assumed Hanreid did it to hurt the brothers, but Gunter's warning put his actions in a different light. Meeting across a negotiation table with that picture of Wolfram hanging between them, even stoic Gwendal must fight to keep his emotions from coloring his reaction to whatever Hanreid said.

His own situation made him doubly dangerous. If he let Hanreid get to him and lost control of himself, it meant the Maoh within him could rise through his control and exact the justice he'd wanted since Yuuri burst into that inn room.

Yuuri raised his cup and drank. It tasted good and after a few minutes the warmth in his belly spread and he did feel better, more alert. He soon finished off his drink and set the glass down on the blotter protecting the polished surface of Gwendal's desk.

"Have you two eaten breakfast yet?" he asked as he resumed pacing.

"Yes, before you arrived." Gunter's head turned briefly to the door, but their unwanted guest had yet to appear. "Gwendal told me about your encounter at the inn. Your studies have focused on the basics of our culture and foreign policy so far, so I'm sure much of what passed made little sense to you. While we're waiting, I'll explain the situation Hanreid has created. There are many forms of marriage in Shin Makoku. One of the more obscure ones is the tribute bond. It gives all the power in the marriage to one party. The couple in the eyes of the law is a single entity. In our ancient past, it was used as a tool of conquest. Marry the heir to an estate and all he or she is and owns becomes yours. From his boasts, this is how von Hanreid bound Wolfram to him."

Stunned, Yuuri gaped, "How can that still be legal?"

"We are not a perfect people, Majesty. There are situations where such a marriage is desirable. For example, when an inheritance is in contention, it can be a useful strategy to preserve ownership. Both parties must be willing though for a tribute bond to be legal."

"Then Wolfram's marriage to Hanreid isn't legal. No way Wolfram married him by choice."

Gwendal killed that flash of hope in the next sentence. "If that were true, we'd have legal grounds to act and take Wolfram away from Hanreid. My brother knows that. But he made no such claim so even though true, we can do nothing. Then there is the child."

"By our laws, a marriage that results in pregnancy is legal and binding." Gunter explained. "Divorce is an option, but in a tribute bond, only the dominant can initiate the proceedings."

Yuuri sighed, "Which means we have to play nice with him."

"For now."

The unexpected declaration drew both his and Gunter's eyes to Gwendal where he sat behind his desk.

"Somehow we will find a way to break this travesty of a marriage. Once we have Wolfram and his child safely out of his clutches, Hanreid is going to pay for what he has done."

And the three of them shared a moment of perfect agreement.

A knock at the door and a guard called out, "Lord Gregor von Hanreid to speak with you, My Lord."

Gwendal got to his feet and gestured for Yuuri to take his chair. While Yuuri did that, Gwendal stepped back and to the right, assuming the stance of a bodyguard. Gunter moved to take a flanking position on Yuuri's other side, creating a united front against their enemy. Only after everyone signaled readiness did Gwendal speak.

"Send him in."

The door swung open. Hanreid strode into Gwendal's office as if he owned Blood Pledge Castle. Composed, with an expression that said the whole situation amused him, he sat in the guest chair facing Yuuri across the neat desktop. The lack of formal greeting didn't escape Yuuri's notice but he returned calm for calm.

Hanreid had dressed for the occasion in a charcoal gray suit that was just light enough to avoid being black and a more blatant insult to the King. Yuuri didn't like the implications so far. The sorcerer entered after him and took up a position behind his master that mirrored Gwendal's.

All they needed now was a bell to come out fighting.

Hanreid broke the silence with a question. "How is my husband?"

"You care?"

"Of course I do. He's about to give birth to my son, and that harridan of a physician will not let me near the infirmary, and all anyone will tell me is 'He is as well as can be expected.' That situation is one of many reasons I insisted we speak this morning." He paused. "Well?"

Yuuri crossed his arms on the desktop and leaned a little forward. "Unfortunately, that is _Wolfram's_," he deliberately emphasized Wolf's name; he refused to say husband, "condition. Our healers are doing everything necessary to stabilize him and prevent premature labor. He needs peace more than anything right now."

Hanreid smiled icily. "Then a visit from his husband is just what my wolf cub needs."

"No."

Simple, matter of fact, and irrefutable; it was a refusal by his king that left Hanreid no recourse. Yuuri spotted the micro expression because he was watching for it. No, Hanreid did not like being denied anything he wanted.

Hanreid shrugged, "Well, we can revisit that issue later."

The man leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He projected a worrisome confidence. Yuuri began to suspect that his response to his demand to see Wolfram was exactly what Hanreid wanted to hear.

He made a waving gesture with his left hand. His attendant pulled a stack of folded parchments tied with a purple ribbon from inside his robes, which he placed on the desk in front of Yuuri.

"Wolfram belongs to me. Those are the proof of it, marriage certificate, signed witness statements – all duplications of course, the originals are sealed and safely stored where you cannot destroy them. Of his own free will he entered into marriage with me, and the child he will soon birth is irrefutable evidence of the consummation of our bond." Sly gloating tainted his eyes and voice when he added, "Some here can bear direct witness to the intimacy we share."

Outrage burned in his stomach and tensed his muscles. Yuuri kept control, but Hanreid must have seen his reaction because his smile grew a little more.

"Didn't you know my wolf cub loves dominance games? Wolfram is an excellent partner. He puts up a very convincing struggle before he surrenders to me."

Hanreid stared unblinking as he spoke of raping Wolfram as if it weren't an evil act. Everything about him reflected a twisted intensity that made Yuuri want to be sick.

"A perfect match," he kept on. "I pleasure him as he deserves. Has Wolfram ever screamed under you, Heika?"

Yuuri kept his cool by imagining Wolfram's response if he disgraced his title by doing what his emotions demanded. Instead, he replied, "It speaks to your character that you'd say such things about Wolfram in this setting. We all know that Wolfram can never love a person like that. I don't know what you did to get him pregnant…"

"You're not that young!"

He ignored the interruption, "but there is no true bond between you, no matter what these papers say. What do you want to release him and return Wolfram to his family?"

Hanreid barked a single laugh. "You mistake my purpose, Yuuri Heika." His expression collapsed into a cold, implacable blank. "Wolfram has been mine since long before the war with the humans. The men arrayed with you here and the previous Heika conspired to keep him from me. If they had honored our contract, this day need not have come. I have no intention of giving him back now that I finally have him. I keep what belongs to me."

Yuuri scowled. "Then why are you here?"

"I wish to propose a compromise, for my husband's sake and our country's." Yuuri bit his tongue to keep from snorting at that blatant lie. "All of Shin Makoku believes my Wolfram is still your fiancé. If the truth came out, more than reputations would suffer. Some might take it as a national insult – a Mazoku noble cuckolding the half-human Demon King – I can imagine the damage that might do to fragile treaties with the human nations. Can't you?"

"And I'm sure," Gwendal sneered, "that you have the perfect solution to the problem you created?"

"I believe it to be a most elegant one. Wolfram remains in the role of your fiancé, though our marriage and all the rights it gives me remain intact. My son is named your heir. I will, of course, keep all my parental rights as well. I have unrestricted access to both my husband and child here at Blood Pledge Castle, with separate quarters that we share during my stays here. They must come to stay with me on my estates four weeks of my choosing in each year. That's the gist of it." Hanreid pointed to the bundle of papers. "That includes a contract with the full details. I'm sure you'll want to review it. There are no negotiable points. Don't waste too much time scrutinizing it. You'll find that you have no recourse. I'll expect your capitulation within the week."

While Yuuri stared, stunned by his demands, Hanreid got to his feet and strolled to the door, sorcerer in his wake, where he paused.

"Oh, and I will have unfettered, private access to my husband when next I pay him a visit. If not, I will leave with my wolf cub, no matter his state, and you will never see him again. You know there is nothing you can do to stop me. Gentlemen."

And the tall man and his shadow were gone.

Gunter sputtered in outrage. "How dare he? What gall! To leave the Maoh's presence without permission is an insult to you and your title, and to make such insane demands!"

"That's because he knows how much Wolfram means to us. He's counting on our willingness to do whatever's necessary to get him back." Yuuri buried his face in his hands. He might be an overprotected teenager back on Earth but he'd read news stories and seen TV reports about people who had been sexually abused, enough to know that Hanreid read him right. He'd do anything to save Wolfram from further harm. But….

"Sire, we cannot give in to his demands," Gunter's soft advice echoed what his gut was telling him.

"Gunter is right." Gwendal's summation put the icing on the cake. "Hanreid is positioning himself to be the power behind the throne. First through you with Wolfram's well being hostage to your compliance to whatever demands he chooses to make. He will then rule through the child. He's even seen to it that you cannot conceive an heir to challenge his child by leaving you perpetually engaged to Wolfram. He's made certain our people used to his presence near the crown. Once they accept the babe as your heir, you're as good as dead. He will wed Wolfram after a decent amount of time passes, with Wolfram's tragic demise – if he is merciful – not far behind. He will step in as regent. This cannot be allowed."

Yuuri marveled at the strength and courage it took for the eldest brother to speak those words. He'd had to overcome a lifetime of protecting his baby brother to speak the ugly facts. He turned to Gunter. "You see it the same way?"

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty," the other man nodded solemnly. "Von Hanreid will turn the babe into his puppet. Shin Makoku will become his to do with as he pleases. Soon or late, the people will rise up against his tyranny. There will be civil war and Big Cimarron will pick over whatever is left."

Yuuri bit his lip, not for the first time feeling totally inadequate for his role in this world. He was sixteen. No one's life should depend on the decisions of a kid. Yet Shinou chose him to be the 27th Maoh.

'_Not without reason.'_

The words in his head were not his own, the mental voice behind them familiar.

'Shinou?' he thought back.

Soft mental chuckles drifted in his head. _'Oh, please. I'm nothing like him.'_

Oh. 'Maoh'

'_Shinou is many things, stupid is not one of them. You will be a great King in your time, Yuuri Shibuya, remember this. Also know that time is the factor that makes or breaks any plan.'_

'What do you mean?'

"Heika?"

'_Ask rather why does Hanreid want your decision so soon? Time should be his friend. Why the urgency?'_

"Yuuri!"

Yuuri blinked and stared at Gwendal who bent over him, hands shaking him by his shoulders.

"Hey, cut it out! What's with you?"

The silver-haired soldier released him and stepped back. "At least you hear me now."

"Huh?" Yuuri turned to where Gunter hovered at the door poised to open it, on the verge of panic, breath irregular and tears brimming on his pale lashes. "What's going on?"

Gwendal reported, "You've been staring into space, rigid as a statue, for more than two minutes by my count," watching him closely for signs of more strangeness. "We were about to send a guard to fetch Gisela."

"I'm fine. I was…."

'_Don't tell them. It is not yet,'_ a sense of irony flowed through him, _'time.'_

"I was having a brainstorm. Thinking hard and fast," he quickly clarified when Gunter went white and turned the doorknob. "Hanreid's pushing pretty hard for us to sign that contract of his. I'm betting that there is a legal way for us to get Wolfram free of him and he doesn't want us to have the time to find it. Gunter, I want you to go through the records as far back as possible. See what you can find to help us." The Maoh whispered once more in his mind and Yuuri nodded. "Get Lady Celi to help. Probably went through a lot of the same stuff back when she found out about the contract. This way you won't go over old ground. And have someone send for Murata. He's at the Temple talking with Ulrike. He may know even more."

"Yes, Heika." Gunter bowed and was out the door, moving with a fast, determined stride.

Yuuri turned back to his staunchest adviser. "Gwendal, I can't read Shin Makoku's written language well enough yet. I want to know exactly what all this," he slammed a hand down on the stack of papers, "says. Can you have someone you trust translate it?"

"I'll read it aloud." Gwendal picked them up and pulled off the ribbon. "If the spell translations don't make sense, stop me and we'll work it out."

"Great, thanks Gwendal."

"You're welcome, Heika."

Yuuri gave up his place to the older man and leaned against the desk to listen. Outside the window, the sun had cleared the castle walls. The pinks and oranges tinting the low clouds fading as it progressed made for a glorious display, but he couldn't properly appreciate it, for today the sun's passage only served to mark the time he had left to save Wolfram and the baby.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks again for reading! Please review. This is my first attempt at writing an "M" story – constructive criticism is welcome. _

_No one has the complete story, but the pieces are coming together and the truth is gradually being revealed. Don't miss **Chapter 8: Soul Born.**_


	8. Soul Born

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks to everyone who signed up for alerts for this story and have waited patiently for this chapter. The project at work that ate up my time for the last couple of months is pretty much done so I'm getting back to more fun, non-work things, including writing. I have several handwritten chapters so I'll be able to update faster for a while._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 8: Soul Born**

Yuuri jogged down the corridor toward the castle hospital wing. He'd meant to return hours ago but as Gwendal read the contract and the other documents Hanreid left with them, he had so many questions that it took forever. Still, he'd come away with a clear understanding of where they stood and what needed to be done.

Now all they needed was a way to do it. But others with more savvy than him were working on it, and he had promised Wolfram he'd be right back. Right now that was his job.

Gisela stood leaning against the front desk going over charts when he arrived. She took one look at his face, pulled him into her private office, and made him sit.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" she asked as she rummaged about in the cabinet behind her desk.

"A little," Yuuri shrugged. "Not that it did me any good."

"I thought as much." Gisela turned around with a dark blue bottle with an opalescent stopper that she set on the desk in front of him before moving to the sideboard where a pitcher of water and four glasses waited. She filled two of them, returned and sat down. After carefully measuring three drops in each drink, Gisela passed one to him then claimed one for herself.

Yuuri held it up to the light. The water had turned the color of iced cola and the scent of mint filled the air.

"What is it?" he asked with a cringe in his voice.

Gisela snorted a laugh at his reaction. "It's something that will perk you up without interfering with your sleep when you go to bed tonight." She took a swallow and slumped wearily into her chair, eyes closed almost blissfully. "It's quite palatable with the mint extract. We call it Healers' Balm because it allows us to do long stints with patients without the nasty side effects of other stimulants. It truly earned its name during the war."

Yuuri sniffed his glass again, trying to figure out what else was in it, before he took a cautious sip. The mint didn't quite overpower the bitter too-strong coffee-like flavor beneath it, but it wasn't as bad as he'd feared.

For a few minutes, they drank in companionable silence. The drink's effect hit pretty fast. Soon he felt as if he'd just woken from a long night's sleep and was ready for a full day's work.

"You ought to sell this stuff, Gisela. You'd make a fortune."

"Perhaps," the healer shrugged then opened her eyes, all humor gone from face and voice. "Tell me what happened after you rode out of here last night."

"We found the man who took Wolfram. His name is Gregor von Hanreid."

Gisela's expression darkened in a way he'd never seen before.

"You know him?"

Gisela grunted. "He has a reputation. Based on what I've heard about the man, I'm not surprised. It explains a lot. Go on, please."

Yuuri laced his fingers around the tumbler and stared into its dregs, unable to bring himself to look her in the eyes as he described what he'd seen.

"I ran ahead of everyone with Murata and got to his inn room first. Hanreid was there on the couch right in front of the door. And he had Wolfram trapped under him. He was … they were … oh, God."

"I examined him, Yuuri. You don't have to say it."

Her understanding voice gave him permission not speak the words hammering inside his head, demanding acknowledgement. Yuuri had been ignoring it for hours, afraid he'd fall apart once the words escaped.

But it had happened, this whole nightmare was real, and if he flinched from saying it, how did he expect to be of any real help to Wolfram.

"He was … raping Wolfram. He wanted it to be the first thing we saw when we broke in. I thought he did it to humiliate Wolfram and hurt his brothers, especially Gwendal." Yuuri forged on when the memory rose up in all its awful detail. "I got the door shut before anyone else saw fortunately. Hanreid is a monster! He didn't care about Wolfram or the baby except to throw in our faces that Wolfram is his husband and carrying his baby, a son."

"What?" The healer set aside her glass and leaned forward over her desk, her expression suddenly intense. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"Oh, I'm sure. He drove the point home every chance he got. Gisela, they can't be legally married if Wolfram is my fiancé, right?"

"Before we go further, Your Majesty, has my father covered Mazoku reproduction in your lessons yet?"

Not sure what could be more important than freeing Wolfram from Hanreid, he told her, "I know that Mazoku actually have three genders. Males and females can reproduce like humans do. Androgyn can either bear or father a child depending on their partner. But I thought that all Mazoku have to be in love for pregnancy to happen."

Gisela nodded. "That is true, Yuuri."

Something strange in her voice made him jump to Wolfram's defense. "You can't think Wolfram has any feelings for Hanreid?!"

"Of course not! I've known Wolfram nearly all his life. He as only ever loved one person."

Yuuri scowled. Again, he heard that odd emphasis in her voice.

"Hold a moment," She held up a hand and closed her eyes briefly. "We're getting off track. Remember what you said when you brought Wolfram to me last night?"

He had to think a minute, so much had happened. "Yes, I told you that he was pregnant and you asked me how I knew. Wait. How did _you_ know?"

Gisela took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering, "Yuuri, we confirmed that Wolfram was pregnant after you left Shin Makoku for what we thought was the last time."

No, that made no sense at all. He and Wolfram had never done anything, He didn't know back then that they even could! Okay, so that meant his fiancé was an androgyn. But according to Gunter's lessons, it also meant that he loved someone else.

"Yuuri."

Yuuri came away from his riotous thoughts to gaze into Gisela's eyes. They held gentle censure. As usual, his face had betrayed his feelings.

"Wolfram has not been unfaithful to you. You ought to know him better than that by now. Why would you think such a thing?"

"What other conclusion is there? We," Yuuri felt heat rise in his cheeks again and wished for the umpteenth time that he knew how to control his blushing, "never did _it_."

The green hair bounced in waves as Gisela nodded with enthusiasm and smiled. "Exactly!"

From the look on her face, Yuuri knew he was supposed to be getting something. He just stared back in growing confusion. Her smile wilted.

"Didn't Father explain about the extraduce?"

"We didn't finish the lesson," he confessed. "I … kinda got upset and needed to walk it off. Gunter let me go early. We were going to finish up at our next lesson."

"Of course, it's just the timing is unfortunate." Gisela spoke half to herself. "It might have been better if I had taught that lesson after all. But I thought you'd be more comfortable discussing it with a man."

Yuuri blushed again. Oh boy was that right!

"Very well then." Her manner turned brisk, a faint echo of Gunter in lecture mode entering her manner. "There is a very rare circumstance when a child can be conceived without physical intimacy. It occurs between two people who are soul mates." Gisela smiled, a soft gentle glow brightening the green of her eyes. "Have you ever known a couple who finished each other's sentences or knew when their partner was happy or upset even when that person was out of sight? Well, intensify that bond twentyfold and that gives you an approximation of what it is to be soul mates. An extraduce, or what most people call soul born, can only come from such a couple.

"Most people think of them as the stuff of romantic myth, but there are documented cases in Mazoku history. However, it is very difficult to prove. Most soul mates have usually established a physical relationship by the time they know of the pregnancy."

Yuuri only became aware that his mouth hung open when the grinning healer leaned forward to push it back into place with a finger.

"You think … but how … when?"

"Love has many faces and facets, Yuuri. Don't put limits on it or on yourself." She used the same finger to push green strands of hair back behind her ear and went on briskly. "As to how, from what I've read, close proximity and the mutual desire to give to the other opens the way for two souls to come together in the closeness necessary to create a new life. When? My guess is during the last hours before you had to leave for your Earth. When you were ready to do anything to return Wolfram's heart to him and he was ready to give his life to save you from the Originators possessing Shinou."

Yuuri shuddered as he remembered the wrenching he'd felt in his heart as he'd gazed upon his fallen friend. The surge of relief and hope when Anissina told them Wolfram wasn't dead, that there was a chance to save him. Things moved too fast back then to analyze what those feelings might mean. After he, Shori, and Murata returned through that last portal, he'd figured it was too late. He tried not to think about it, focusing on reestablishing a full-time life on Earth.

But then the dreams started.

Yuuri struggled to absorb it all. This must be what it's like to go into shock, a sliding into a confusion that no amount of scrambling slowed or stopped, thoughts popping in and out of his head with no rhyme or reason. What must Wolfram had gone through?

Some of those thoughts came together and Yuuri's eyes went wide. "Wolfram didn't know, did he? No way he'd keep something that important from me. Why didn't you tell him?"

Sorrow shadowed Gisela's expression and voice. "There's another thing that makes an extraduce unique. A child conceived by two souls can only be sustained by those two souls. If the couple is separated for too long, the fetus ceases to develop. With you gone from our world, there was nothing to be done for the child. A miscarriage was inevitable. I made the decision to keep the pregnancy secret from Wolfram and spare him the grief and risk of knowing he must lose the life within him."

Yuuri's stomach dropped sickeningly. "What do you mean by risk?"

"Wolfram would see the baby as your last though unknowing gift to him and done anything, including draining his own majutsu, in a doomed attempt to save her. We would have lost them both.

"Anissina and I monitored his condition, expecting a miscarriage long before Wolfram noticed any signs. However, there was a surprising complication. While the baby didn't develop, neither did she begin to fail for far longer than she should have." Gisela frowned as her thoughts wound about the facts. "We assumed that Wolfram's magical energy was sustaining her but now I wonder. Perhaps the Maoh's energy was strong enough to reach through the barrier between our two worlds to keep the soul connection whole.

"Only in the last weeks did the inevitable decay begin." The healer smiled then, bright and beautiful, "Then you returned, and when we checked again, not only had the baby recovered, her physical development had resumed." Gisela's smile wilted. "I was going to give you and Wolfram the good news today."

"So Wolfram's baby might be mine, not Hanreid's?" A little sister for Greta. "But Hanreid kept saying it's a boy."

Gisela stood and came around her desk. Perched on its edge, she leaned forward to grasp his hands, which he noticed in a scarily detached way, were shaking so badly he'd been on the verge of dropping his glass. "We have to face the fact that he may be right, Yuuri Heika. Mazoku gestation is slightly more than twelve months. Since Wolfram could not have reached his current state in a single day, he must have been in Hanreid's hands for at least that long even if we can't explain it. Months separated from you under foul conditions, there's a possibility that he lost your child and the baby he carries is Hanreid's. Hanreid certainly must believe it or he would not make such a claim."

Yuuri shook his head in confusion, "That doesn't make sense. How?"

"Hanreid has done something to Wolfram, with drugs or magic, probably a combination of both," she explained. "And I don't know the exact extent of what been done to him. His majutsu is completely blocked, no doubt to prevent him from calling his fire down on his captors. His entire physiology is off kilter, and not just from the normal changes wrought by pregnancy."

"Can't you tell with your magic?"

Gisela took the glass from him, set it on the desk, and crossed her arms. "No. Whatever's been done to him, Wolfram's systems have been disrupted so badly that I don't dare try. It's why his healing took so long. Wolfram has a healer's training and normally his healing majutsu augments mine when treating him. Last night the opposite occurred. We'd heal one area of his body only to set off a cascade of failures elsewhere. It took most of the night to stabilize him and the baby. Until his body can tolerate majutsu again, I won't put him and the baby at unnecessary risk." She shrugged, "We'll have to wait for the birth to determine who the father is."

Yuuri took a deep breath and firmly pushed down his imagination's idea of what had gone on behind the hospital door while he waited unknowing. "They're going to be alright though?"

Gisela reassured him, "We'll have to be very careful. He's not to be exposed to magic of any kind until his body has gotten back its normal balance. I've ordered total bed rest right here where we can monitor his condition. Visitors will be limited to immediate family." She returned to her seat to write out her instructions. "I will also draft orders for Gwendal to sign that gives my staff and the guards the authority they need to refuse Hanreid access without the need to seek permission of someone of higher rank. Once you've slept, bring Greta down. Anissina and I will explain things to her so she knows what to expect when she visits Wolfram."

"Thank you for talking with Greta about everything." Real relief brought a little smile to his face as he stood to go. "I'm still trying to get my head around it all. I'd have probably messed up any explanation I tried to give her. Does Wolfram know the baby might not be Hanreid's?"

"He hasn't been conscious long enough for a lucid conversation."

Hesitating at the door, Yuuri turned around. "Do you suppose…."

"Go ahead." Gisela gave him a wink. "I've already had the partition taken down so you can use the bed in the next cubicle. Sleep well, Your Majesty."

"Thanks, Gisela."

Yuuri stepped into Wolfram's room and sure enough, it was much larger and now held two hospital beds, the second pushed close enough to allow him to reach out to soothe his friend if he had a nightmare.

He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on top of the blankets. Rolling onto his side, he reached out to cover the nearest limp hand with his own. As Yuuri watched, the shadow of tension on the too thin face eased.

That reaction scared him in a way even more than the prospect of being king and all the responsibility that came with the title did. As King at least he had loyal advisers – Wolfram among them – to give him the benefit of their experience and to guide him so he didn't screw up too badly.

He only had himself for this.

He'd never been responsible for the well being of another person to this degree before. If the baby turned out to be an extraduce, his presence near Wolfram was keeping it, no her, alive. Yuuri had just seen evidence with his own eyes that he actually affected the fire demon.

So much could go badly. What if they didn't find a legal way to get Wolfram away from Hanreid? Or something went wrong with the pregnancy? This time making a mistake had too high a price.

"Oh, Wolf," he breathed softly, "what am I going to do?"

The fingers under his hand curled up to grip his briefly.

"Go to sleep," his fiancé mumbled, eyes still closed and Yuuri felt sure barely awake himself. "Wimp."

With a surprised chuckle, Yuuri gave Wolfram's hand a squeeze back, closed his eyes, and did just that.

-o0O0o-

A soft voice humming a soothing tune woke him and Yuuri rolled onto his side. Lady Celi sat in a chair placed between their beds. She'd changed out of her party finery into a black dress cut in her usual style but with a white lace shawl draped over her shoulders against drafts.

One hand gently stroking her youngest son's curls while she filled his ears, and hopefully his mind, with what he guessed was a lullaby. He hoped it inspired sweeter dreams than Wolfram's reality must be giving him.

Lady Celi glanced his way with that instinct all mothers seemed to have when it came to wakeful children and smiled on seeing him watching her.

"I used to tease his hair like this when Wolfram was little." She gazed down on her youngest son with a nostalgic air. "I'd come to his room late at night after all the business of the day had been dealt with and just watch my Wolvie sleep. Sometimes he'd wake and curl up in my lap. He eventually outgrew it but there are days when I wish I could protect all my boys the way I could when they were children."

Yuuri sat up, yawning. "Did he wake up?"

Her head shook sadly. "But that isn't necessarily a bad sign. His color is much better and he's been resting easily. Gisela says the baby is doing better though the danger still remains for them both. If I had Hanreid here, I'd…."

Lady Celi didn't finish her statement, but her expression said enough. The hum of her stirring majutsu raising the hair on the back of his neck spoke even louder.

Yuuri kept silent, giving her time to master her emotions and her power. After a bit, she brought her hand away from the sunny tresses to press a point between her brows. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I'm afraid my control isn't what it should be."

"Hey, no problem, I understand." Yuuri got out of bed and stretched. "I'm going to go wash up and change clothes. I'll be back as quick as I can so you can get some sleep too."

"Thank you, Yuuri. You needn't hurry. I plan to be here until my baby wakes up."

As he walked down the hall to his rooms, one word kept repeating in Yuuri's head.

Wow.

He'd known from conversations with Conrad and Wolfram that their mother was also a skilled fire wielder, but he tended to forget it. He'd witness her skill with a whip before but he'd never seen her wield fire, or any kind of magic for that matter. The intensity he'd just felt coming from her had hinted at a level of power to reckon with. No wonder her full Mazoku sons were such incredible wielders of their elements.

The sentries outside his rooms saluted when he approached.

"If you will wait a moment, Your Majesty, we will secure the interior before you enter."

Yuuri nodded, "Of course," while inwardly seething at another sign of Hanreid's shadow on his life. He should have expected the increase in security. The surprise was that Gwendal hadn't arranged a permanent escort for him.

While he stood waiting, Yosak approached from the direction of the courtyard, the spy's continence unusually serious.

"What is it?"

The redhead reported, "A pigeon has come from the Great One's temple. Geika has begun the journey back with the results of his research. Your privy council is to meet in Lord Gwendal's office in an hour's time. I'll be taking over Greta's security so Conrart can join you."

"Good. Did Murata's message say if he'd found anything?"

"No. But that's no reason to think the worst, Heika. Geika would not risk sensitive information falling into the wrong hands." The bigger man slapped him companionably on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get our Brat out of this."

"Nothing else is acceptable."

Yosak's eyebrows rose fleetingly and his face took on a speculative look. The guard who'd remained in the hallway to guard him while his fellows made sure his rooms were safe tensed. So he wasn't the only one who heard echoes of the Maoh in his voice, something that never happened unless his other self was manifesting.

"You alright, Kiddo?"

Yuuri stilled and listened. No, he remained in full control, the Maoh quiet inside him. He blinked and smiled.

"I'm fine." Thankfully he sounded normal again. "We're just in total agreement there, that's all. I'm going to take a bath and change. Don't let them start without me."

The rest of the detail came out and gave the all clear. Yuuri strode quickly by them, refusing to think what the change in his voice meant. He couldn't deal with any more right now.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram opened his eyes to find himself in a familiar dreamscape. He wore a voluminous white cotton nightshirt that reached nearly to the floor where his bare feet stood on the comforter that always waited for him in the circle of light that served as his shelter when he came to this place in his sleep.

Just beyond the light in the thin realm just before the darkness became blackest black, he could just make her out, tall and thin, eyes lost and haunted. Wolfram approached as close as he dared. He'd been warned never to enter the dark and he had no intention of disobeying again.

"I didn't think you could be here if I weren't on Hanreid's estate."

"The birth will be soon."

He rubbed gentle circles over his swollen belly through the soft cloth with his hands, sensing the baby's discomfort and trying to send her ease and comfort through touch.

"I nearly lost her, I may still. Nothing feels right. I'm afraid…"

"Hush." A pale, icy hand reached into the light to touch his lips. "He scents fear like a hound tracking blood spoor. Remember your debt."

Though he could not see them, Wolfram felt the presence of others crowding around him, demanding from the darkness surrounding his pool of light. Like the hiss of wind through dying grass, they spoke.

"Your debt to us. Payment comes due."

Feeling the color drain from his face, Wolfram backed away until he stood at the center of the light. Faces he couldn't quite make out pressed against the blackness. Hands pushed against it, reaching for him. For….

No!

Wolfram woke gasping. By the time his mother's cry brought the healer on duty to his bedside, he'd forgotten all but the fear.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri recognized the guard outside Gwendal's office as one of those who'd been in the rescue party. The older man opened the door and closed it securely behind him.

Despite rushing so fast that his hair was still dripping uncomfortably down the collar of his clean school uniform, Yuuri was still the last to arrive. Gwendal gave him a terse glance before returning his attention to Gunter who was speaking animatedly to him. Lady Celi had joined them, which meant he realized with relief that Wolfram had awakened and must be doing better. His godfather sat beside her, looking reassuring like his usual calm self.

Extra chairs had been brought in, allowing everyone to sit gathered around the desk where Murata had several scrolls and books spread out in front of him. He nodded to Conrad when he stood to pull the last empty chair out for him.

His friend waved his hand with a tired smile. "Hey, Shibuya. Now that you're here we can get started." Murata leaned back in Gwendal's chair as Yuuri took the seat Conrad held out for him. "Gregor von Hanreid is insidiously clever. If he weren't such scum, I could almost admire him. He must have been planning this for years. He did his research and found the only form of marriage in Shin Mazoku law that can't be broken by outsiders. A tribute bond won't allow for divorce unless he initiates it, and we all know Hanreid will never do that. Family members can't intervene on the tribute's behalf."

"Wolfram can bring criminal charges against Hanreid, can't he?" Yuuri asked.

"Normally," Gunter informed him, "if a tribute can present documented proof of abuse of the bond before a court, the judges can rescind the bond."

Conrad explained, "That's where our problems begin, Heika. The marriage contract Hanreid forced Wolfram into gives him all the power. Wolfram cannot testify on his own behalf or even request a private hearing before the Ten Aristocrats without his husband's permission."

Hanreid had been too clever by half. "Is there any way around that?" Yuuri heard desperation in his voice and didn't care. "You and I are witnesses to what he did, Murata. Conrad and Gwendal were there too when he was boasting about it. Can't we testify for him?"

"Unfortunately," the eldest brother told them, "Hanreid said nothing that could be construed as a confession of his crimes. In fact, he coached all his statements to enforce his lies should we bring charges against him."

"Why?"

From the expressions on the faces around him, Yuuri wasn't the only one startled by Murata's question. The man was covering all his bases, they all knew that. But then Murata had a deeper knowledge of Shin Makoku than he did, thanks to his myriad reincarnations. He must see something the rest of them had missed.

"Think about it. He has a pregnant Wolfram, there's no reason for him to force down our throats, aside from his need to feed his ego and to establish a position of power for himself, that taking legal action was futile. It only makes sense if his plans depend on us _not_ challenging him before our courts."

Gwendal scowled as he leaned against his desk, "It's been worrying me that Hanreid didn't make his foul claims at the gate. We have a vested interest in keeping Wolfram's condition from becoming public knowledge for as long as we can. What possible reason does he have to keep secret the one thing that validates his claim to Wolfram?"

Lady Celi pushed to her feet and began to pace the room with arms crossed over her stomach, bright red nails drumming against her upper arms. "From all I know of him, your worries are well founded. Hanreid is spiteful. He ought to be taking every opportunity to throw our failure to protect Wolfram from him in our faces."

At first, Yuuri assumed that Lady Celi referred to Wolfram's kidnapping, but when he thought about what had happened that night, it didn't quite make sense. What had Hanreid said, something about breaking faith and a betrothal? Murata asked the question that Yuuri hadn't quite formulated.

"What exactly do you mean by failure?" He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "How long has Hanreid been a threat to Wolfram?

Gwendal exchanged a silent consultation with his mother. Some kind of signal must have passed between them because Celi nodded and began to speak.

"In the years before the war, we prepared as best we could. Hanreid positioned himself so that his cooperation was vital to our strategies. He gained control of land we needed for supply trains, hoarded the raw materials necessary for war. In exchange for passage rights and access to his stockpiles, he got an arranged marriage."

Yuuri knew his face must have gone white as a bleached sheet. "You sold Wolfram?"

"Not Mother." Gwendal growled, "That was our Uncle Stoffel's idea."

Celi turned to him with eyes asking forgiveness, "I didn't have the experience yet to rule in wartime. The Aristocrats believed, and rightly so, that Shin Makoku needed someone with military training and the ability to make hard decisions to call upon in need. My brother received the authority to act as my surrogate.

"He negotiated with Hanreid in secret meetings." Old pain shadowed the former Maoh's expression. "He waited to tell me until after everything was irrevocable. Hanreid would be handfasted to Wolfram on his 80th birthday and marry him when he reached legal age. I used my authority as Maoh to block his attempts to fulfill the terms of the contract, but it was only a matter of time." She smiled at Yuuri. "Your engagement saved my Wolvie."

Gwendal took up the tale. "I began to suspect something was going on a few months after the end of the war. Mother spent far too much time in the library reading obscure volumes of law. At first I assumed it had to do with the coming succession. But at about the same time, Hanreid began finding reasons to visit Blood Pledge Castle. Even then his company was not something anyone sought. I made the final connections after your engagement. Conrart and I went to Ulrike to seek special dispensation to end it. Mother presented a convincing argument to leave things as they were."

Yuuri's brows went up. Everyone had behaved as if it was a done deal. He'd never suspected anyone had objected to his accidental engagement to Wolfram.

"We accepted her logic but with reservations. So I investigated. It wasn't easy." He shot a half accusing, half admiring glance Lady Celi's way. She acknowledged his sideways compliment with a crooked smirk. "But I eventually uncovered the contract and learned just what kind of man Stoffel had chained my brother to. Neither you nor Wolfram knew it, but that accidental proposal proved to be a godsend."

"Literally," murmured Lady Celi under her breath as her pacing took her past Yuuri, just loud enough for him to overhear her. Was she implying that Shinou had been pulling the strings even in that?

"Too bad it didn't stop him permanently." Yuuri scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "What about an annulment? We have those on Earth for special circumstances, like when two kids get married too young and without their parents' consent."

Again, Gunter shook his head, "Annulment isn't an option because, beyond all reason, there is a child."

Butterflies danced in Yuuri's stomach as he asked, "What if the baby isn't Hanreid's?"

"Procreation is evidence that the bond between two Mazoku holds true. If Hanreid proves not to be the father of Wolfram's baby, it means another is Wolfram's destined mate and the marriage contract is nullified. Why do you ask, Majesty?"

Here goes. "Gisela told me that Wolfram was pregnant before Hanreid kidnapped him."

The stunned silence didn't last long.

"Shibuya! I didn't think you had it in you."

"Your Majesty! You had relations before marriage?"

"How dare you accuse my brother of infidelity!"

Yuuri tried to speak over the barrage. "I'm not…we didn't…if you'd just let me explain!"

"Quiet all of you!"

Lady Celi's shout shut them all up. She had said nothing after his announcement, only stared at him intensely. He literally watched the rebirth of hope in her. "Don't you understand? If it's true, Hanreid's marriage to Wolfram is illegal and we can free him. Let Yuuri speak."

"Thank you, Lady Celi. I apologize, everyone, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to. What Gisela said is that Wolfram was carrying a soul born and I was the father."

Celi grabbed the back of the nearest chair with shaking hands and leaned forward. Her eyes – so like Wolfram's – shown bright with relief and excitement. "I knew my Wolfram couldn't love that man!" And this beatific expression spread across her face as she turned to Gunter. "This means we can end this travesty of a marriage, right?"

Yuuri saw the reluctance in his lavender-haired adviser's posture and felt his own hopes sink again.

"I'm afraid not, Lady Celi. We cannot bring this or any evidence before a court, Hanreid saw to that. Even if we could, proving an extraduce conception is virtually impossible. Hanreid has documents and witnesses to the consummation of his marriage to Wolfram and that will be evidence enough that he is the father in a court of law."

Conrad frowned, "Then if Geika is right and he doesn't want us to bring this situation before a court, what exactly is he afraid we can do?"

Murata told them, "There's a loophole in the law. If we produce an unimpeachable witness who can testify that the marriage was forced on Wolfram, we can call for a hearing despite the restrictions a tribute marriage places on us. He used time against us, we can do the same to…."

A brief knock and the door opening interrupted whatever Murata was about to add. Gisela entered and held the door open for Anissina who came into the crowded office with her arms full of one of her inventions.

"Make room!" she barked at Gwendal who hurriedly gathered up the papers and documents on his desk before she plopped her machine on top of them.

Gisela closed the door and leaned against it, not so much for security but because a quick once over of the room revealed there simply weren't enough seats for all of them in Gwendal's office. Gunter got up and offered his seat to his daughter who took it gratefully. Yuuri doubted the healer had slept much at all since they'd brought Wolfram home what with the expenditure of healing magic and the physical efforts and stress when that failed.

"Where are you?" she asked the room in general.

"I just told them the baby might be mine."

Anissina grinned, "Then our timing is perfect." She gave the weird looking contraption a sharp pat. "This is one of my earlier inventions, the Measure of a Soul Kun. It measures the traces of soul and life energy in Mazoku blood. I have here," the redhead held up three sealed glass vials, "samples of blood Gisela took from Wolfram. The first is dated a few months after His Majesty returned to his world, the second just after his return, and the third a few hours ago."

The inventor slipped the first vial into a slot in the machine. After a bit of adjustment, the display panel lit up. Even from where he sat, Yuuri could make out several lines that reminded him of heart monitors in the movies.

Anissina pointed to two interwoven glowing green lines waving about in the top section. "This indicates the presence of two life forces. And this," Anissina's finger drifted down to a dimmer line that barely moved at all, "shows the levels of the hormones present in a sexually active Mazoku. They're non-existent. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is the first clinical proof of an extraduce conception."

Yuuri looked at the faces of his companions. He saw a mix of surprise, shock, and in the case of Lady Celi satisfaction. Of them all, she had most openly championed the relationship between him and Wolfram.

Murata shook his head when their eyes crossed. "I don't advise using Anissina's evidence in a hearing, Shibuya, at least not yet. We don't want Hanreid to find out too soon. So long as he believes the child is his, Wolfram is relatively safe. Let's keep that secret until we absolutely have to use it."

Yuuri was getting really tired of the emotional rollercoaster ride. "Okay, back to figuring out a plan. Where are we going to find an impeccable witness in time?"

His classmate leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers under his chin.

"You remember the Demon Mirror, don't you? The last time you touched it, it showed you what you needed to know about the war and the Battle of Guttenberg. I think it will show you what you need to know to save Wolfram."

Conrad immediately protested, "It also sent him into the past as an active participant. If it works as it did before, Yuuri will be wherever Hanreid took Wolfram. Unlike the people in the distant past, he and his sorcerer will know Yuuri on sight."

"That is a risk," Murata admitted, "but Ulrike and I also took that into consideration. That first time, Shibuya touched the Demon Mirror with a completely open and curious mind, all his defenses down."

Yuuri remembered nothing of the Demon Mirror's power. For him, he touched the bowl, blinked, and found himself in a different when. He'd been unaware of his comatose body in the present or his friends' worry.

"Ulrike assures me that, when using the proper ritual, the Demon Mirror simply reflects true images for witnesses to observe."

"Wait a minute. We can't do this." Yuuri sat up, seeing the same reluctance in the postures of the brothers in the room. "Wolfram doesn't need anyone, let alone a bunch of strangers in a courtroom, knowing the details of what happened to him. He's been through enough."

Murata smiled, "That's the beauty of it. It only has to be one. As your anchor, Ulrike will see what you see, making her a direct witness under Mazoku law. What more unimpeachable witness can there be than the High Priestess of the Great One? Once Ulrike sees enough to confirm the Hanreid has been abusing the tribute bond, she can call for a hearing to review the legitimacy of the marriage where no one else can and testify to what she's seen through the Demon Mirror. Best of all," he added as his smile shifted with triumphant satisfaction, "the couple must be kept apart until the conclusion of the hearing."

The corner of Gwendal's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Oh, Hanreid isn't going to like that at all."

"We don't have much time," Yuuri reminded them, "Hanreid threatened to take Wolfram away if we prevent him from visiting him the next time he asks. What's our next move?"

"We need to bring you and the Mirror to the temple as quickly as we can. Ulrike is preparing for us there." Murata turned to Gunter. "The Demon Mirror is locked up in the basement vaults, right?"

"Yes, Geika. I'll bring it to you immediately." The lavender-haired man strode with purpose out the door.

Gisela told him. "My staff and the guards all know Hanreid and his people are not to get anywhere near Wolfram. We will be sure he's safe."

"Anissina, see to it this evidence is protected and ready in case of need," Gwendal instructed, "Mother and I will stay with Wolfram until you return. Conrart…."

His godfather said, "I will escort and protect His Majesty and Geika on their journey."

"Okay, we have a plan." Yuuri got to his feet, "Let's get going."

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! Please review. Constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Yuuri and company have devised a way to save Wolfram, but it means using a magical device that has proven unpredictable in the past. Just what will the Demon Mirror show Yuuri? And if all goes as planned, what will Hanreid do? Don't miss **Chapter 9: Yesterday and a Year Ago.**_


	9. Yesterday and a Year Ago

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thank you all for your patience. And special thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed this story. This is for you._

_Warning: There is nonconsentual sex in this chapter._

_Things in my mundane life have been swallowing up my spare time, so I haven't updated as planned. I'm so glad to be able to get back to fan fiction. I can't promise to update quickly, but I will finish this story for you and bring you more. There's a lot waiting in my head._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsentual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 9: Yesterday and a Year Ago**

They rode into the temple courtyard at a walk. Yuuri had wanted to ride at full gallop but Conrad and Murata had both urged a slower pace. They'd been right of course. As he'd made sure the cinch of Ao's saddle was secure, Yuuri had looked up to see Hanreid watching them from the second floor walk. The smile on his face clearly saying their efforts would be fruitless.

How he looked forward to seeing that smile wiped away.

A priestess waited for them on the steps to the main entrance. She bowed as they dismounted. "I am to take His Majesty and Geika to Lady Ulrike."

Yuuri glanced at his godfather who was calmly taking the reins of the horses. "What about Conrad?"

"It's alright, Yuuri." He gave him an encouraging nod. "Go on. Learn what you can. I'll be here when you are ready to leave. I have no magic so cannot participate in the ritual anyway." Worried brown eyes shifted to the dark arch of the entry as if seeing whatever waited inside. Yuuri didn't think he was supposed to hear his muttered, "Even if I could, it's _not_ a good idea for me to see what Hanreid did to my brother."

With a swallow, Yuuri trotted to catch up with Murata who had already climbed the steps in the priestess's wake. He gave him a shrewd glance when they were side by side.

"What's wrong?"

"Maybe we can find another way."

"But this is our only option, we've agreed on that."

"Yeah, but If Conrad is afraid of his reaction if he watches – and he's the most stable person I know – how can I expect to be stronger than him? What if I can't handle it and the Maoh gets loose?"

His friend gave his shoulder a squeeze that didn't feel awkward at all.

"It will be hard, Shibuya, but don't underestimate yourself or him. Keep in mind, the Maoh is part of you and knows what you know. The fact that he hasn't destroyed Hanreid at this point means he's also aware of what we're up against. We can be sure he will choose the right time for justice." A hardness came into Murata's eyes that reminded Yuuri that the boy beside him carried centuries of experience in his soul. "I intend to be there to see it."

The priestess guided them into a side chamber where Ulrike waited for them. It was pretty stark. No windows, only a skylight high above that cast indirect sunlight on the small table in the center of the room. There were two chairs. Ulrike occupied one.

"Welcome, Heika. Please take a seat."

Yuuri heard the bolt shot on the door as he obeyed. The dark high gloss surface of the round table cast near-perfect reflections of the patterns on the sides of the Demon Mirror. The petite woman wore full formal regalia. It made her look so much more imposing than he was used to seeing her, somehow intensifying her solemn expression. Their guide moved quietly to stand behind her left shoulder. He sensed Murata take up the same position behind him.

Ulrike's soft voice broke what he suddenly realized had become an awkward silence. "Do you wish to go over the ritual again before we start, Your Majesty?"

"No, Murata did a good job of explaining the procedure on the way here. That's not it. This still feels wrong, like we're spying on Wolfram."

"We made the right decision." Murata repeated the argument he'd made before they left Blood Pledge Castle for the temple. "There was no time to convince him of the sense of our plan, nor did we want to risk the upset arguing with us would likely have caused von Bielefeld in his current state. Shibuya, in this case it really is better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

"I know all that in my head," he said with a rueful shrug. "It doesn't help the knots in my stomach." Yuuri gathered his nerves then looked at his companions. "Okay, let's do this before I talk myself out of it."

The silent priestess placed her right hand on Ulrike's shoulder at the same time Murata did the same to him. This would allow them to share whatever visions the Demon Mirror showed to him and the high priestess as the primary participants.

Yuuri reached across the table to hold his fingers just above the rim of the Mirror's bowl. Ulrike followed suit and gave him an encouraging nod. As Wolfram's fiancé, he had to be the one to initiate the ritual. The question had to come from him. He closed his eyes.

He spoke aloud the words Murata had painstakingly taught him on the road to the temple then formed the thought as clearly as he could in his head, 'Show us what we need to see so we can save Wolfram.'

His opening eyes were her signal and Ulrike lowered her fingers simultaneously with his to the cool porcelain surface.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Afraid he'd somehow done it wrong, Yuuri tried again.

'Please, he's so hurt. I need to know what happened to him so I can fix it.'

The room spun out sideways and his stomach sank with an abrupt drop just as his vision blurred to black.

Yuuri blinked several times but it didn't help, it only made the carsick sensations grow. It was nothing like before, so maybe that was a good sign things were working right. He squeezed his eyes shut. The darkness continued to whirl behind his eyelids though for whatever reason the nausea went away. The spinning gradually slowed to a stop. Yuuri squinted through his lashes.

Ulrike was smiling at him. The other priestess stood rubbing her temple with her free hand, and a gentle tap of a finger on his shoulder let him know Murata was still there.

Everything else had changed.

The small meditation room and all its contents, including the low table and the Demon Mirror had vanished.

"You did it, my friend. Don't move your hands, Shibuya," Murata's whispered a warning. "The Demon Mirror is still there, it's only our awareness that's shifted."

Yuuri peered around them in confusion. Yeah, but to where? He couldn't find words to fit what surrounded them. Everything was gray and somehow empty. No mists surrounded them, but he felt the way he did walking in thick fog – like the world had somehow shrunk with the things in it unrecognizable until you got right on top of them. And yet he also sensed vast space around them too.

"This isn't right. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, Your Majesty," Ulrike explained as she looked around curiously, "We're in the transition plane between our now and that which the Demon Mirror chooses to show us. Watch carefully, we must all be able to give coherent testimony of what we see."

The null went totally black. A shiver rippled along his skin, and in the space of a breath, another place and time grew up around them. Wooden file cabinets and bookcases filled the space, lining the walls and making an island down the middle of a long room. At the far end were double doors with windows above them. The words painted in reverse across the glass panes read Registrar's Office.

Hanreid stood at a counter near the doors where a tiny middle-aged woman with gray streaked dark brown hair was flipping through a ledger book almost half as big as she was.

"I'm sorry, Your Lordship, but the priest's affidavit hasn't been filed yet. I can't register your marriage before then."

Hanreid smiled amiably but his eyes had gone dangerous and the poor woman glanced around nervously as if looking for back up, but they were alone.

"I don't see a problem." His tone said there'd better _not_ be a problem. "The old man signed the marriage certificate."

The woman tried a smile of her own that wilted when it had no effect. "But without the affidavit, we have no proof of non-coercion. The separate document confirms everything is above board. Normally it's just a formality, but since yours is a tribute bond, I have to follow the rules. There have been cases – not yours of course – where priests were forced to conduct this kind of wedding at sword point. And what with Lord von," she glanced at the certificate, "Bielefeld so recently engaged to the Maoh…."

"You are not employed here to spread gossip."

Yuuri's empathy for the poor clerk ratcheted up as the steely voice flailed her.

"No, my Lord. Please forgive my rudeness."

Hanreid leaned in and turned on the charm. The transformation boggled the mind. No wonder he'd gotten away with so much for so long.

"Of course, dear lady. It's only natural to speculate under the circumstances. Our situation is exactly why we chose a tribute bond and want our marriage on the records as soon as possible. His family dishonored our handfast contract. Before we had a chance to claim our rights, they maneuvered our last Maoh into engaging himself to my Wolfram. You can imagine our anguish."

"Indeed, Your Lordship. Such things…"

"The stress has affected my husband's health, otherwise he'd be here with me," Hanreid cut off her attempt to express empathy as if she hadn't spoken at all. "We finally have the freedom to do as we have always wanted, and this time we want to make sure they can't tear us apart again. The priest's affidavit will arrive I have no doubt, but he is old and it may not be soon. Wolfram's mother and brothers will contest, but if the marriage is on file, they won't have the power to hurt us anymore."

"Oh, how cruel! Still, My Lord, I cannot file without that affidavit. That would make the filing unlawful and you'd be in an even worse position. However, I can record today's attempt with my signature and statement that the documents you presented on this date are genuine. If they make a move between now and the true filing, the intent will be taken into consideration. I'll even send a runner to the temple to fetch the affidavit if you'd like."

Hanreid caught up her hand, "Dear lady, bless you!" and kissed the back of her knuckles. He stayed long enough to watch her make the notation, then with a nod of satisfaction, spun on his heel and left the building.

Only when he was long out of sight did she wipe her hand off on her thigh.

"That was creepy."

A younger man stepped out from behind a side door. The woman gave him a glare.

"And where have you been? I could have been robbed and murdered for all the help you were."

The man gave out a nervous snort. "I like my head exactly where it is, thank you very much. So who's the next victim?" he asked, trying to peer over her shoulder at the marriage records book.

She slapped the book closed before he could see much. "We are not gossips here. Mind your eyes and tongue." Hanreid's words must have hit a sensitive spot. But after a moment, the woman gave in to curiosity. "What do you mean, victim?"

"That's right, the last marriage ended long before you transferred here. That was the infamous Lord Gregor von Hanreid. When he marries, the wedding bells might as well be death knells. The dust hasn't had time to settle on the honeymoon suite before he's burying the unlucky bride or groom." The man's tone took on the glee of someone who enjoys being the first to tell a sordid tale to fresh ears. "Rumors of murder dog him, though no one has ever accused him to his face. Every death appeared to be either accidental or natural causes. He moves on to the next one as soon as the mourning period passes. Each wedding left him all the richer for it, either in coin, land, or status. So I have to wonder who's the unlucky bride or groom? He's so wealthy now, only the Ten Aristocrats hold any possible gain for him. I'd bet money not one of those families want him in their bloodlines."

"Oh."

The woman's co-worker stood there with wide curious eyes and bounced on his toes as he waited for her to enlighten him. He was doomed to be disappointed.

"Why are you still here?" She shot him a dismissive glance. "Get back to your filing."

"Yes, ma'am." Disappointment in every line of his body, the file clerk went back out the door he'd come in through.

Alone again, the woman stared at the ledger, then opened it with an abruptness to her movements that told Yuuri she'd made a decision and wanted to act before she thought better of it. She flipped pages until she found the one she wanted and wrote something else in before placing the huge book in a file drawer and locking it.

The vision faded to charcoal black and the whirling began again.

Yuuri turned to Ulrike, "Why did it stop? Shouldn't there be more?"

"The Demon Mirror shows only what you asked of it, whatever we can use to rescue Wolfram and his child," the priestess explained. "Something we saw or heard will help us do that."

"It's got to be whatever that woman wrote in the registry after Hanreid left." Murata suggested, "Send Yosak to take a look. He can ask around, speak with the people, and uncover what that is without raising suspicions."

Yuuri nodded in agreement even as another scene developed around them.

Now they were in a bedroom, very fancy, the sort of thing you'd expect in the most expensive suite in a five-star hotel.

Wolfram looked like a small child as he slept on the huge bed. He wore a white robe made of what looked like silk held closed at the waist with a thin cord. Shadows of old and new bruises marred his skin and he looked too thin for good health. As the viewpoint of the Demon Mirror drew closer, Yuuri realized he must have been either unconscious or drugged senseless. Wolfram's body was too still, his breathing so shallow it was almost impossible to detect.

The vision swung around to the bedroom door as it eased open. Anger and dread burned in Yuuri's chest as he watched Hanreid enter and stride to the bedside, the sorcerer at his heels like a living shadow.

Something about the way they moved toward Wolfram, the angle of the viewpoint, felt oddly familiar. Yuuri shook his head. He'd worry about that later. Hanreid had started talking.

"How long will he be out?"

The sorcerer bent over Wolfram and took his pulse by pressing two fingers against his pale throat just beneath his chin. "He is well under. I doubt he will wake before midday tomorrow. I suspect his resistance to your advances, such as he has been able to manage, have been enough to interfere with my casting. His will is much stronger than the others."

Pushing the sorcerer aside, Hanreid moved in on Wolfram and reached to untie and fold back his robe.

"We have no more time for trial and error, sorcerer. He must conceive before month's end."

The sorcerer stepped back to give his master more room to climb onto the bed and his victim.

"He can't fight you now, your seed should take. If not, there is one more method to try that I have no doubt of."

"Then why didn't you use it from the start?" Hanreid demanded while he exposed and prepared himself.

The robed shoulders lifted in a shrug. "It involves introducing a new, powerful potion into your husband's system. The possible adverse side effects... Better to save it as a last resort option."

Hanreid stared down at Wolfram with eyes that burned with insatiable hunger. When his hands moved to play along the skin of Wolfram's chest and stomach and further down, Yuuri had to bite his tongue against the rage that wanted to express itself in a scream.

"If there is no sign of pregnancy after this, you will use it. Wolfram _will_ bear me a son before the year is out. Now leave me."

The sorcerer obeyed without a word, closing the door carefully behind him.

With Wolfram helpless to fight back, Hanreid easily spread his legs and pulled Wolfram tight against him. His body engulfed Wolfram's much smaller form.

"Will it be tonight, my wolf cub?" he whispered hoarsely. "Will you wake with my seed rooted inside you?"

He proceeded to force his way into Wolfram with clinical brutality. Yuuri felt Murata's restraining grip on his shoulder as furious tears burned in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He knew that everything he saw had already happened but he still wanted to reach into the vision and drag him off of Wolfram. Across the table, Ulrike's wide eyes pleaded, and he remembered the warning Murata had given him on the ride to the temple after he explained what the ritual would entail.

"Be warned, Shibuya. What we're going to see will be hard to watch. But that is all we can do. You must not react to what the Demon Mirror shows us. We can speak between visions but that is all. Any abortive movement, any outcry against whatever we see will end the visions and possibly cause us to lose the chance for evidence that can save Wolfram and the baby – possibly the Demon Kingdom – from Hanreid."

So he bit down harder on his tongue until he tasted blood and begged silently for the Mirror to move on.

As if it heard him, the Demon Mirror shifted the vision again, this time it resolved into what looked like a small private chapel. A priest stood on a slightly raised dais gazing down at the couple before him and speaking words Yuuri couldn't understand. It must be in a formal dialect that the spell that allowed him to understand and be understood didn't encompass. But based on the garb worn by the pair, Yuuri could guess at their meaning.

Hanreid, he reluctantly admitted to himself, looked very handsome in his wedding suit.

Beside him, Wolfram stood rigid in an elaborate, beautiful outfit that, though flattering to his slender frame, Yuuri knew his friend would never willingly wear. His face held a bland expression, but his whole posture screamed reluctance and something the fire wielder rarely showed – fear.

It was obvious Wolfram didn't want to marry Hanreid. Why wasn't anybody stopping it?

The perspective of the vision shifted, sweeping the room. A few servants sat in the pews. They all looked anxious and beaten down. Wolfram would never have found allies among them; they feared their lord too much.

Beyond them another figure sat on a bench against the chapel wall. The Demon Mirror drew closer.

Like a specter in a haunted house, the sorcerer in his hooded robe perched there with a doll in his lap. No, not a doll, but a teddy bear. He recognized it. How not, Yuuri had hours in toy stores and online hunting for one that looked like a bearbee for a gift for his daughter. He'd last seen it in Greta's room. How had the sorcerer gotten hold of it? Why?

The priest asked a question. Wolfram glanced the sorcerer's way. The boney hand raised the bear's arm and made it wave.

This was how they'd forced him into marrying Hanreid, by threatening their little girl.

Wolfram faced the priest and responded with what had to have been yes. The old man concluded the ceremony and Hanreid grabbed Wolfram to him. He bent him backward with a kiss that, based on their expressions and the increased fidgeting, made all the witnesses save the sorcerer uncomfortable. Keeping a firm grip on Wolfram who trembled with mortification or more likely the effort not to strike back, Hanreid dropped the formal talk and grinned at the red-faced priest.

"Forgive us, but we've waited a long time for this day. Ardor will have its way."

The old priest cleared his throat. "Ah. Yes. Of course."

Hanreid faced his witnesses and announced, "A feast waits in the lower hall. Go, enjoy yourselves. My husband and I will join you after we have fed another hunger. Perhaps."

The nervous laughter followed Hanreid as he swept Wolfram out of the chapel, his intentions no mystery to anyone.

The Demon Mirror kept its attention on the sorcerer who, after everyone left to take up Hanreid's invitation, followed his master. He tossed the teddy bear through a door to what must be his bedroom, before moving down the hall to a closed door where he stood waiting and listening. The wood must be pretty thick. All Yuuri could hear were faint sounds of struggle and voices too muted to understand.

Abruptly the door swung wide and Yuuri saw Wolfram make a run for freedom. Seeing the sorcerer blocking his way, he raised his hands to call fire.

But none came. His fiancé collapsed. The sorcerer caught him before he hit the floor, quickly dragged him back inside, and shut the door behind them.

That didn't stop the Demon Mirror. They passed right through the door to witness the confrontation.

Hanreid backhanded Wolfram then dragged the barely conscious boy up by his wrists until he wobbled on his knees before him.

He snarled in Wolfram's bruising face, "I will not tolerate defiance!" and ordered the sorcerer, "Open the portal. It seems we need to pay another visit to sweet Greta."

"No! Don't hurt her," Wolfram begged, struggling feebly to break free of the hands imprisoning his wrists.

"You knew from the start what price she'd pay."

A circle in the air peeled away at the magic wielder's gesture like a curtain and behind it was Greta's room. She was fast asleep and unaware of the sorcerer's hand poised to reach for her. Wolfram stopped fighting, slumping in Hanreid's grip.

"I'll do whatever you want! Just … please don't do this!"

"Swear that you will abide by the marriage vows."

Through angry tears, Wolfram vowed, "I swear to fulfill the terms of the marriage bond. Now close the portal!"

Hanreid apparently didn't see enough surrender when he stared at him. His scowl gradually turned into a sneer.

"Clever. I've heard that you were quite the scholar. Swear on your life and honor that you belong to me."

Wolfram's face went dead white. His mouth opened but he didn't speak. At his hesitation, Hanreid nodded to the sorcerer who reached through the portal for Greta.

"Stop! I swear it, damn you! I swear on my life that I belong to you."

Laughing, Hanreid ordered the sorcerer out the second he closed the magical opening. He pinned Wolfram to the wall, kissing him and forcing them into intimate contact, countering every effort Wolfram made to break free.

Hanreid eventually freed his mouth and licked up the drool running down his chin. "So sweet. I am going to enjoy seeding my child in you."

"That's impossible. I don't love you. You can't impregnate me!"

Horror twisted Wolfram's face when Hanreid flung him onto the bed, knelt between his legs, and freed himself.

"Pray you're wrong, because this is all you have to look forward to until I do."

To his eternal relief, the vision faded again. Yuuri didn't think he could witness Hanreid raping Wolfram again and keep still.

The Demon Mirror was gearing up to show them something else. His vision swam and resolved into a new scene and he continued to watch.

-o0O0o-

Distantly, as if overhearing a conversation at another table in a noisy restaurant, Yuuri caught Ulrike's words.

"This is enough to accomplish our goal, Your Majesty. Withdraw as Geika showed you."

But that made no sense, the visions hadn't stopped yet.

"Shibuya!"

"Hmmm?"

Yuuri blinked. The priestess who had stood as Ulrike's second for the ritual was reverently removing the napkin-draped Demon Mirror from the table. A second priestess took her place to set quill, inkwell, and parchment in front of the high priestess. Ulrike began writing immediately with a broad sweeping stroke, the only outward sign of her inner turmoil at what they had just witnessed.

Murata leaned down to squint into his eyes, "You zoned out there for a minute. Did you have trouble with the closing ritual?"

He frowned. He didn't remember speaking the words that severed his connection to the Mirror's visions. But he must have, otherwise he'd still be enthralled. Murata's expression was swiftly becoming concerned so he gave him a sheepish grin.

"No, just thinking."

His friend crouched, bringing their gazes level.

"Try not to do that too much," Murata warned with a hint of humor in his voice. "You might sprain something. Seriously, what had you so distracted?"

Yuuri scrambled for something to say, since there hadn't been anything in his head at the time. Then he remembered the sensation he'd had earlier. "I was thinking about the room where they kept Wolfram. It looked familiar for some reason. Like déjà vu."

Murata arched his eyebrows at him. "Interesting. Maybe they holed up in a place you've been to during your travels. We'll get together with Gwendal and Conrad as soon as we can and see if we can work out where. It might come in handy to know that location."

Ulrike finished writing with a flourish and blew on the ink to speed its drying. Between puffs she gave instructions to her attendant.

"Have the temple scribes make ten copies and return them to me to be sealed. We will have eight delivered to safe locations in Shin Makoku to minimize Hanreid's chances of destroying all written record when he learns they exist. Two you will take, Heika. Give one to Hanreid when he brings his challenge. Hopefully after he reads it he will think twice about bringing his case before the Aristocrats. But if it comes to that, the hearing will be held here in the temple and I will be here to testify to what we witnessed."

"Thanks, Ulrike," he told her as he reached out to briefly squeeze her ink-spattered hand.

"You are more than welcome, Majesty." The small woman stood. "I've other duties to tend to. Your copies will be delivered here. Please make yourselves comfortable while you wait. Ask if you need anything."

"On second thought," Murata held up a finger, "have them brought to my rooms. This will take a while and Shibuya could use some sleep."

"That is an excellent idea, Geika. Rest well, your Majesty."

He staggered when he got to his feet. Only Murata's grab at his arm kept him there. Yuuri shook his left leg and lied, "Foot's asleep."

"Well, walking to my room will help with that. Here, lean on me until you get your land legs back."

As it turned out, he needed that support. Yuuri felt as if he just woke up from a nap too soon after a mile run – achy, tired. It made no sense.

When they reached his room, Yuuri peered around, curious. He hadn't actually been here before. They'd always been too busy or out of the country or too quickly swept back to Earth for the kind of casual visits that would have given him the opportunity.

It was more Spartan than he'd expected. He saw nothing that said "This is Murata's room," as if he had no intention of taking up permanent residence there. No art on the walls, no souvenirs or personal items, just a double bed, a trunk, a dresser with a small mirror on the wall above it, a large desk covered with scrolls and books – no doubt the research materials that had led to this one hope for them – with a simple wooden stool, and a cushioned chair by the narrow window that looked out on the interior garden.

Murata steered him to the bed, turned to shut the door and push the simple bolt into the lock position, then rounded on him.

"Alright, Shibuya, what _exactly_ just happened?"

"I don't know what you mean," he replied through a yawn that left tears in his eyes.

Murata sat next to him, serious and worried. "At first I thought it was just fatigue, what with all the stress you've been under recently. But you're not responding the way I'd expect after coming out of the ritual, even taking that into consideration. I'm guessing the Maoh spoke the closing incantation for you. What were you doing in the meantime?"

"Watching what the Mirror showed us, same as you."

"Oh, I don't think so." Light caught from the window flashed in his eyes off the other boy's glasses as Murata shook his head. "This might be important, Shibuya. What was the last vision you saw?"

"Us breaking into that inn, of course. That was weird, seeing everything from Wolfram's side of it. I…."

"Yuuri!"

The soft emphasis on his first name shut off his words. Murata almost always called him by his surname.

"The last thing I saw," he told him, "and I'm sure it was the same for everyone else, was their wedding night."

Yuuri blinked. "That can't be right."

"Don't forget, we're dealing with mercurial magic." What he thought of as Wise Man mode overtook Murata who stood and began to pace the room. "Something must have gone wrong at the start of the ritual. You asked it to show us what we needed to know to help Wolfram. Do you remember what words you formed in your mind for the Demon Mirror to read?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Repeat them for me. Be as exact as you can."

Yuuri thought back. "I started with something like 'Show us what we need to save Wolfram.' At first nothing happened so I figured I must've done it wrong, so I tried again. The second time it was 'I need to know what happened to him so I can fix it.'"

Mumbling to himself as he paced, his friend suddenly stopped short and snapped his fingers. "Pronoun trouble."

"You're not making any sense, Murata."

"The first time you thought 'we' so the first visions about ways to save Wolfram were for all of us. The second time when you asked to know what had happened to him you thought 'you' so the Demon Mirror showed those visions to you alone."

Yuuri struggled with that. "But we came out of it at the same time, how could I have seen so much more than you did?"

"Magic rarely follows the logic we learned in school, my friend. Within the Demon Mirror, time flows as it chooses."

"So I screwed up." Yuuri flopped back on the bed with arms spread out, "Again."

"Not necessarily. Remember, we saw what we needed to see in order to accomplish our stated goal. What you saw you needed to see so you can, as you put it, fix it. If you think of anything we can use to form our strategy against Hanreid, let us know."

Moving to the foot of the bed, Murata opened the trunk there and pulled out a blanket. He tossed it over to him. "I wasn't making excuses when I said you needed some sleep. Get comfortable, it's going to take a while for the scribes to make those copies. I'll wake you when they get here."

After he kicked off his shoes, Yuuri pulled his feet up onto the bed and snapped the blanket out so it settled over him. He rolled onto his side and pillowed his head on his curved arm.

Murata sat at the desk tidying things up.

"I'll tell you what the Demon Mirror showed me."

Murata's hands paused in rolling up a scroll. Without turning, he said, "I haven't asked you to."

"I know, but I think I should. You'll probably see something that I missed."

His friend set down the scroll and turned to face him, elbows on knees and hands dangling between them.

"Go on then."

And Yuuri began the long, sordid tale.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! It's been far too long since I posted a new chapter. I'm not going to promise when the next one will be ready but my plan is to type a little bit every day so I make faster progress. Please review, your feedback has been my inspiration. Constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Wolfram has been Hanreid's captive for a single hour that lasted for nearly a year. The story of that time begins in __**Chapter 10: Entrapped.**_


	10. Entrapped

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed and made this story a favorite or checked it to follow. I'm back and only about a month later, a record for me lately! I'm committed to typing a few hours a week so I can get new content up regularly for you from now on._

_Warning: There is nonconsensual sex in this chapter._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 10: Entrapped**

_**The First Days**_

The partygoers had long since sought their beds. The priest was on his way back to his temple with a substantial donation for the coffers in his belt pouch.

Thoroughly sated, Hanreid ambled through the empty halls to the rooms he'd designated as living quarters for the man his staff knew as his private physician. He'd trained his people well, no one questioned that he never revealed his face nor had given his name to them. They wisely avoided him whenever possible, though none were suitable for the sorcerer's needs.

Hanreid glanced out a window as he passed to see the horizon purpling with imminent dawn and preened over his endurance. A remarkable potion, he might just congratulate his sorcerer on a job well done.

Said sorcerer opened the door as he approached with fist raised to knock. He held the expected steaming mug in one hand and ushered him in with the other.

The moment the closing door assured their privacy, he asked, "Did it go as expected?"

Hanreid took the drink he handed to him. "Better. My wolf cub is a fighter. The more he struggled, the more aroused I became. Your potions did the job; I lasted the entire night, though he didn't." His eyes shuttered as he remembered that final show of resistance. Wolfram had taken everything he'd done with a remarkable stoicism that had irked him to the point that Hanreid had sworn that he'd not release his new husband until he'd forced a reaction out of him. His intensity only grew with his impatience at the boy's refusal to give him what he wanted.

Wolfram broke so sweetly when he realized what that denial was about to cost him. Panic and terror twisted that sweet face as his wolf cub fought him until the sorcery surrounding him sucked all his strength away. When he saw there was no escape, Wolfram actually tried to summon fire again. The spells quickly put an end to that, but they left him unconscious for the rest of the night and easy prey. Not as enjoyable, but he had the rest of Wolfram's life to take his pleasure of him.

The sound of the sorcerer clearing his throat put an end to his reliving of the best part of his wedding night. Hanreid looked at the mug in his hand. Forgotten, it had begun to cool. Hot or cold, the potion had a vile, lingering taste.

"Are you sure you can't do anything about the flavor?"

"Not without radically reducing its efficacy."

Hanreid grimaced before tipping back and did his best to swallow with as little contact with his tongue as possible.

Of course it didn't work, and he'd have to wait four hours to wash out the aftertaste with wine. Still, the final results were worth it.

"How much longer will I have to drink this?"

The robbed shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Only until we confirm that Lord Wolfram is pregnant. And if you decide to get more children on him in the future."

"Why would I? I only need the one."

"And if the child is female, or has no magic?"

Once again, the sorcerer brought up flaws in his plan he preferred to ignore. Hanreid sent him a quelling glare. He did not like being reminded that he did not have full control of the world around him despite meticulous planning and manipulation.

"Go to my bride and tend him, physician. His deflowering proved rather hard on him."

"Hard enough that he will require magical healing?"

"Probably, but that's why I am glad that Celi saw to it he had healer's training. He'll recover faster than a normal Mazoku. He'll have more staying power than the others."

"If I may make a suggestion, Lord von Hanreid?"

He nodded his permission and held out the empty mug.

The sorcerer took it and set it on his work table. "It's possible your seed has already taken, if not now, then in the next few weeks. Since it won't be a natural conception, the resulting pregnancy may be…precarious. Too much stress or trauma will increase the risk of a miscarriage."

"You're telling me to exercise restraint with my Wolfram."

The hooded head nodded, "It would be best for the advancement of your plans, my Lord."

Only a fool pays a man for his expertise and ignores his advice. Besides, he'd seen for himself how the spells and potions that were priming Wolfram's womb for his sperm debilitated him.

"Very well, I'll play nice."

-o0O0o-

Wolfram woke to a vile taste in his mouth. The memory of how it must have gotten there sent him clawing for the edge of the bed to heave everything in his stomach onto Hanreid's very expensive rug. When the spasms stopped, he stuck his finger down his throat to make sure.

Once nothing more came up, he curled onto his side and began to breathe deeply to fight off the rising surge of panic and self-loathing and other emotions he didn't have names for yet. In through the nose until the lungs filled, hold until they burned, release slowly through the mouth until they emptied, repeat. He spent several minutes going through the calming ritual before his heart rate slowed, the spikes behind his eyes eased to needles, and his mind started to work properly.

Gingerly Wolfram pushed himself upright to assess the damage. Practically every muscle and joint ached along with his head. Blood stained the sheets, drying and fresh, confirming what his memory and senses told him.

Hanreid had brutally raped him through the night. His stamina had been inhuman. Wolfram knew that fighting back would only hurt him, so he'd used every ounce of his will to do nothing. He clung to the feeble hope that if he didn't respond Hanreid might call it a night sooner. Instead he'd gotten more violent and perverse until Wolf began to fear he'd do serious damage. Despite his resolve, he fought back.

The last thing he remembered was Hanreid kneeling on his hands and grabbing him by his hair and ears, pulling him closer despite his failing resistance. Wolfram had panicked and called his fire. That was it, everything went black until he woke alone to deal with the aftermath.

Biting back a groan, Wolfram swung his legs over the edge of the bed on the side clear of vomit and tried to stand. His legs refused to support him at first and only clutching at the headboard kept him from falling. What had that monster done to him while he was unconscious?

Hunched over, he made his way to the bath. He needed to wash every trace of his rapist off of him. He wanted to scrub away the layers of skin those hands had befouled. He wanted….

Oh, Shinou, he wanted none of it to have happened.

He made his way to the sunken tub and stepped cautiously down into the swirling heated water. At first it burned his torn flesh like acid but then the warmth soaked in and the aches began to ease. Wolfram reached for the soap and towel waiting on the tub's rim.

His hand shook.

Despite the steamy heat, his whole body shook and he felt cold.

Shock, his healer's training told him. The treatment for physical shock is a warm non-alcoholic beverage and a warm bed. His prison had a fireplace and he remembered seeing a pitcher on a side table, so he could manage the first even if his ability to call fire was still compromised.

The bed was out of the question. He'd sleep on the bare floor first.

Wolfram soaked the soft white cloth and rubbed the soap into it to work up a decent lather. He began to wash. Gingerly at first, but with growing vigor, he scrubbed at his skin as he sent healing energy – thankfully the spell didn't seem to interfere with that magic – into the worst of his injuries. The worst thing was that every time he abraded a wound, it triggered memories of Hanreid twisting his arms behind his back and forcing him facedown into the crumpled bedding, gnawing at his throat like some kind of an animal, and worse things.

He fought them by conjuring sweeter memories: the rare times in his childhood when both his brothers and his mother had been free to spend a day with him. The first time he successfully called fire with mastery. That last picnic with Yuuri and Greta.

The water had gone cloudy and chill before Wolfram could bring himself to end the bath. He climbed out of the tub and dried off with the thick bath sheet that hung on a rack bolted into the wall. His body moved more easily at least. He wrapped the towel around himself and headed to the bedroom. As he passed the vanity, Wolfram caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused.

Tears washed his bruised face.

The grief lying in wait behind the shock tried to overwhelm him at the sight and Wolfram struggled to suppress it. He didn't dare allow himself even that outlet or the churning emotions inside him he'd barely mastered when he first regained consciousness would tear through him like floodwaters through a weakened dam.

It wasn't the time. Right now, he had to focus on dealing with the physical trauma so he had the strength to endure until Yuuri and his brothers came for him.

I am strong, he repeated over and over in his mind. Hanreid will not break me, and I will make him regret ever laying eyes on me.

Wolfram gradually calmed to the point he knew he wouldn't break down into sobs. With a corner of the towel he wiped the tears away and tried to pretend they hadn't been there before returning to the bedroom to find something to wear.

The second he passed through the door he broke into a fit of coughing. The smoke emitted from the candles placed here and there around the room choked the air. Hanreid must have lit them before he left and he'd grown used to it breathing it in while he lay there. The humid air in the bath had cleared his lungs so that now the adverse affects of the oddly-scented wax was more noticeable.

Wolfram snuffed them out one at a time as he limped around the room's perimeter on his way to the heavy drapes on the far wall to open the window. He pulled them aside. The casement windows were anchored to the stone sill so they only opened an inch or so. Iron bars with barely the space for one hand between denied him the access he'd need to escape this way.

Apparently, Hanreid fully intended to keep him in his pretty cage. Wolfram's spirits lifted a little at the backhanded compliment. So Hanreid didn't think his twisted magic enough to keep him imprisoned. He intended to prove him right.

He forced his hand through the bars and managed to work the window open enough to allow a breeze in. Beyond it was the dark of night, all he saw were a few faint stars.

His body began to shiver. He needed to keep warm. Wolfram crossed to the wardrobe where Hanreid had gotten the now ruined wedding robe. Holding his towel with one hand, he opened the door to find something to wear.

At first he just stared in shock. Then he slammed the door, outraged and embarrassed by what hung inside. The prostitutes he'd seen in the less reputable towns of Shin Makoku dressed in outfits more modest than the clothes Hanreid had chosen for him. If the honeymoon hadn't been proof enough, here was clear proof of the role Hanreid expected him to play in this so-called marriage.

Wolfram crossed to the stone fireplace where someone had laid a fire that waited only a spark to set off the tinder. A brief exploration of the mantle provided the needed flint and striker. Within minutes bright flames radiated the heat his body craved. He settled down before it, angling his body so he'd see the door open when Hanreid came back. He wanted a chance to put up a fight.

Or rather, a token fight. His eyes found the set of fireplace tools on the hearth and he flashed back. Hanreid laughing as he molested him while he strained to reach those potential weapons, out of his reach by barely an inch. The bastard had taken great pleasure in what Wolfram feared was only the first lesson in just how helpless he was.

Wolfram grabbed the poker, the weight of it reassuring in his grasp. The next time Hanreid came for him, he intended to get in at least one good blow before the sorcerer's spells reduced him to helpless victim again.

Armed, determined, and more scared than he ever remembered being in his life, Wolfram waited.

The lock tumbling woke him out of a shallow sleep. Someone was coming in. Securing his towel, Wolfram moved as fast as his abused body let him to stand where the opening door would hide him long enough to catch whoever it was by surprise.

It swung open gently, as if the person entering didn't want to wake him. A cart bearing bed linens, a tray with a spork and a covered dish, a bucket, towels, and a small satchel rolled in. He recognized the sleeves and boney hands of the sorcerer.

His hope for success increased. He had a more likely chance to physically subdue the hooded man than the much more muscular Hanreid.

Wolfram stepped carefully back, remembering and mimicking the stance Yuuri used when "swinging for the bleachers" in that baseball of his. He'd seen his fiancé connect with the ball with such force that it flew hundreds of feet beyond the field of play.

Suddenly his hands went numb. The poker fell from fingers that refused to hold it any longer. It cut a deep gouge in the hardwood floor even as Wolfram's knees failed him and he collapsed to join his erstwhile weapon.

The sorcerer closed and locked the door behind him without a sign of even noticing him where he lay quivering at his feet. He parked the cart and proceeded to strip the soiled sheets from the bed and drop them into the pool of vomit to begin soaking it up.

"His Lordship is going to have to summon the carpenter to sand that out and refinish the boards. You really shouldn't do things that make him angry."

"I'll do more…" Wolfram panted as he tried to stand, fought to move his aching body, struggled just to raise his head. "…more than that."

Somehow.

"Oh, I doubt it." His captor snapped a fresh sheet out over the mattress. He folded and tucked the corners with swift efficiency and reached for a second sheet.

"What … did you…?" He had no breath to finish the question, but the sorcerer answered all the same.

"I did nothing. You did it to yourself." He finished the corners and gathered up the bolster to fold it neatly over the foot of the bed. "Your husband well knows your reputation, Lord von Hanreid."

A shudder answered the unwelcome reminder. "That … is not … my name!"

The sorcerer ignored him, explaining further as he replaced pillow cases. "Gifted with fire and a temper to match, Lord Hanreid knew he had to prepare for you. He ordered me to construct this suite with you in mind. Within these walls you cannot summon fire, nor can you do harm of any kind to us. This room is your perfect prison. You call fire; it takes it and uses the maryoku to restrain you. Resist in any way and it robs you of your strength. You've experienced it at least twice now. It's one of my most complex and intricate workings. What do you think?" In the darkness of the hood he was probably smirking at him.

Wolfram tried to glare but whatever he managed didn't faze the sorcerer. He finished making the bed and stalked toward him. His feeble defiance changed to panic when those cold hands closed on his arms and pulled him to his feet.

"Relax," he ordered when Wolfram tried and failed to break free. "I have no interest in you as a bedmate. Even if I did, I'd be a fool to poach the property of a man like your husband."

One hand shifted to wrap long fingers in a vice grip on his neck while the other snatched away his towel and tossed it on the pile of dirty linen. The examination that followed, though clinical and brief, left Wolfram mortified.

"You've been healing your injuries. Good, you're better off for it. I can only offer mundane treatments. My magic is geared toward less benevolent uses."

Still clasping him by the throat, the sorcerer walked Wolfram, arms flailing, backward until his legs came up against what turned out to be one of the wing chairs by the fireplace. He forced him to sit before turning back to the cart.

Without his towel, he had only his hands to cover himself. When the sorcerer faced him again with the meal tray in his hands and saw his demure posture, he shook his head.

"Modesty will not serve you in your new life." The robed man returned and placed the tray across Wolfram's thighs. "Eat. It's all you're getting today so don't waste it in a tantrum. Then rest. Your lord husband will not react well if you fail to obey him in this."

Wolfram hated that those words sent a spike of fear into his belly. Not wanting the sorcerer to see how badly he'd shaken him, Wolfram waited until his hands stopped trembling to lift the dome covering his meal. It looked like nothing more than an innocent bowl of vegetable stew and sourdough bread. He sniffed at it and was relieved to detect nothing out of the ordinary.

But then something else hit his sense of smell.

Wolfram looked up from his examination of the meal. To his dismay, the sorcerer had lit one of the obnoxious candles from the hearth and was moving around the room relighting the rest.

As if sensing he had his attention, the sorcerer spoke again. "Do not put them out again. I very much doubt you want to spend your days and nights tied to the bed."

All the color drained from his face at the thought of being even more helpless in this place.

"Eat. It's that or nothing."

Wolfram took a bite of stew. It didn't come up to the cooking at Blood Pledge Castle, but it was palatable. He had a second spoonful in his mouth when the aftertaste hit. He spit it back into the bowl.

Considering all Hanreid had done to take and keep him, he didn't think it was poison. Hanreid said he wanted to impregnate him.

Now that all the candles were lit, the weird scent had already begun to grow stronger. Drugged food and tainted air. He stared at the sorcerer.

"What are you doing to me?"

Moving to stand over him like a vulture, the man hissed back, "Eat. Or I will force feed you."

Reluctantly, knowing how that confrontation must end, Wolfram picked up the spork. His captor waited until he finished. He bent to take the tray. A finger darted out to touch Wolfram's throat and he whispered strange syllables. Cold radiated from that touch.

Wolfram tried to protest the action but his words failed to come out. He clutched his throat in new panic.

"That spell will keep you from bringing it up again. The muteness is a temporary side affect. I don't recommend you force me to cast it too often. It can permanently damage your voice." The shadowed hood moved closer until he almost made out the hidden features. "Do you understand?"

Wolfram cringed away, nodding.

Satisfied, the sorcerer left his side to put the tray back on the cart and finish cleaning the mess left on the rug.

Wolfram used that time to regain his composure. This was all part of their campaign to break his spirit. Much like the tactics unscrupulous humans had used against their Demon prisoners during the war, Hanreid and the sorcerer were trying to undermine his confidence, keep him unbalanced with drugs, pain, and threats, until he'd do anything they wanted to make it stop.

No! It won't come to that. Gwendal and Conrart were coming. Yuuri would soon be here to save him as he had saved so many others. He just had to hold on until then.

Everything bundled on the cart, the room once more pristine, the sorcerer wheeled his way to the door, his parting words another blow.

"Rest while you can, you will need your strength to pleasure Lord Hanreid tonight as he expects."

Trapped in the fear the thought of what was coming triggered, it took a while for Wolfram to realize he hadn't heard the sound of the door locking. He could get out!

He didn't dare escape while Hanreid threatened Greta, but he needed to reconnoiter while he had a chance. Anything he learned might prove vital when opportunity presented itself. But he refused to go wandering in a strange place naked.

He pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the wardrobe. Without his towel, he had no choice but to wear something from that dubious selection. He chose the least scandalous outfit, a pale translucent white tunic that sparkled when it moved in a way that reminded Wolfram of a sweep of stars. When he put it on the long sleeves hung passed his fingertips. The hem dragged the floor but it scooped on both sides to just above his navel in front and to the small of his back behind. He felt far too exposed, but it was better than all the other options.

Wolfram hurried to the door, gathering the material on either side to raise the hem enough that it didn't trip him up. He pressed his ear to the cold wood and listened for any movement in the hall beyond it. When he heard nothing after fifty heartbeats, he cautiously eased the door open to peer out.

He stumbled back with a muffled cry. Rubbing his forehead where he'd bumped it, Wolfram stared in disbelief at the gaping doorway. Some kind of invisible barrier blocked his way. He moved closer slowly this time, one hand outstretched. Just beyond the lintel, his fingers encountered something that felt like an over-stuffed cushion. When he applied more pressure, it became hard as stone. He pushed harder and it pushed back. A tingling sensation crawled up his arm to his shoulder.

Wolfram tried again, this time throwing his full weight against it as if he were breaking through a barricade.

He came to his senses sprawled on the floor some ten feet away and gasping for air. The tingling filled his entire body now and he couldn't move. The sound of a slow, ominous tread made him struggle all the more but his body refused to obey him. Fear rose with the bile in his throat when Hanreid made his entrance. Backlit by the torch set in the wall behind him, he stood framed by the doorway. He looked like a huge dark beast on the hunt despite the fine quality of his dark purple robe as his eyes tracked the room before settling on him, unblinking. Wolfram suspected he did it on purpose, part of his strategy to intimidate and terrify him.

Damn the man, it was working all too well.

"Ah, my beautiful caged wolf cub." Wolfram blushed at the way Hanreid ogled him. "When I imagined you in that shift, I did you an injustice. What happened here? I sincerely doubt that you assumed that seductive pose for me at this stage in our relationship."

The barrier that had sent Wolfram flying proved no impediment to him. Hanreid walked right through, pausing only long enough to close and lock the door before crouching beside him with a pleased smile.

"You tried to leave, didn't you? I don't suppose you appreciate your restraints as much as I do, or understand them. Shall I explain while we prepare for the night?"

Hanreid stretched out beside him and leaned his head on one hand while with the other he began arranging Wolfram's body. "I pay exorbitantly for his unique services but he's well worth the price. I explained what I needed and he prepared this chamber." The hard body pressed against Wolfram's side while the roaming hand caught a fistful of the tunic and raised it in a slow exposure. "The irony is that the spell he cast to prevent you from leaving is fueled by _your_ magic."

Wolfram felt the tingling begin to fade but it wasn't happening fast enough. Hanreid was pushing his legs wide and he still couldn't move.

"The more you want to leave, the harder you try to escape, the more powerful the barriers and the more strength the spell steals from you to reinforce them. We lock the door, not to keep you in, but to keep others out. Can't have word getting out just how reluctant my precious bride really is."

Hanreid rolled on top of him. The hated face closed with his. "You are trapped, my sweet. You can never leave these rooms on your own until you no longer want to leave me."

Wolfram stared at him in sick dread as the realization of what that meant sank in. Hanreid's lusting expression twisted briefly into one of satisfaction at the sight.

"I love the irony in that. Either way, you're mine."

And he set to demonstrating that fact. Hanreid held Wolfram by his ears so he had to watch his face while he raped him. If Wolfram closed his eyes, he twisted them until he gazed up at him again. Hanreid wanted him to see the pleasure he got from violating him, how the tears and silenced screams he ripped from him fueled his perverted hunger.

The effects of the spell wore off gradually. At first twitching muscles, then the ability to raise one hand to push feebly at the sweated chest, but by the time Hanreid withdrew to sit straddling him Wolfram still didn't have enough muscle control to put up significant resistance.

"We'll see if that took. Actually, I almost hope not. You're a sweet lay, husband of mine."

"Damn you!" he managed a hoarse whisper when he wanted to scream and flame his tormentor into ash.

Hanreid just grinned and bent to force an invasive kiss on him. Again, Wolfram was helpless to stop him. He felt the start of his rapist's arousal and panicked. He tried and failed again to push him off. His whole body began shaking uncontrollably when Hanreid pressed closer.

"Oh, what you do to me. But I promised to behave myself."

To Wolfram's stunned relief, Hanreid pulled back. One last teasing grind and he got to his feet.

With a broken sob, Wolfram scrambled backwards over the floor and away from him until he collided with the footboard of the bed where he huddled trying to calm his dangerously racing heartbeat.

"Don't get used to it. I will never again walk away from you unsatisfied."

Hanreid strode calmly to the door without bothering to close his robe and unlocked it. He paused. Wolfram's heart raced ever faster.

"Wear pink tomorrow," he ordered with a terrible knowing expression. "I know how the color compliments you. Heika may not have appreciated your efforts, but I most certainly did."

Wolfram choked on horror at the addition of a new dimension to his systematic violation. How long had Hanreid been spying on him? What had he seen?

Don't think about it, he told himself. It's what he wants. Focus on what you can deal with. Wolfram tried to stand when new pain like nothing he'd felt before hit him. He felt the warm wet flow of blood between his thighs. Hanreid had done more damage than he'd thought.

Wolfram tried to raise healing magic to stem the blood escaping from his body in the aftermath. On top of what he'd just endured, the attempt took all he had left. Wolfram collapsed where he lay, unable to hold on to consciousness. In that swallowing darkness, the first roots of the despair Hanreid was determined to seed in him found fertile ground.

-o0O0o-

Someone touched him. He tensed then pretended to be asleep though he doubted that would keep Hanreid off him.

"Wake up."

The voice – a woman's – echoed oddly in his ears. That sound and pain were all that made his world.

Cool fingers ghosted over his brow to comb over his skull. As they passed, he felt sweat dampened strands of hair trail across his eyelids.

Wolfram opened them to see a girl a few decades older than him peering into his face with her head tilted to the side. Her eyes were that unique blend of gold-flecked brown and green that people called hazel. Thin blood red rings circled the pupils, which were dilated wide as if in a darkened room despite the glow from the fireplace. She wore a plain white dress, and a gray scarf tied back a cascade of rich brown hair.

She pressed one of those thin fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth so he asked his question in a whisper. "Who are you?"

The hand that still rested in his hair moved to travel over his lower body, the pale green glow of healing energy emanated from even paler fingers. The pain eased to a dull bearable throb and the bleeding stopped.

For the first time since his kidnapping, Wolfram felt the tension tightening his muscles begin to fade.

"Thank you," he breathed in profound relief.

"You are not to die."

Wolfram frowned up at her. He'd known Hanreid had done damage. Had sensed how bad just before he passed out, but dying bad?

"We wait for you. Will wait? Have waited." Her face turned away from him, tracking a world for several seconds that Wolfram couldn't see. It returned to him darkened with purpose. "So. Don't die."

Wolfram stared back with a sinking heart. The first person to enter his prison who wasn't Hanreid or his tame spellcaster, and she had to be half mad. He tried to speak gently, but his screams had left his throat raw and it came out raspy. "I don't intent to, but I don't exactly have a lot of say in my life at the moment."

"Don't die."

She sounded like a child who still believed saying it made it so. If Hanreid kept at him as he had so far, Wolfram feared he'd be the one to shatter that belief.

"I'll do my best not to," he promised. "I'm Wolfram von Bielefeld. May I ask your name?"

"It's gone. He took it."

"Who took your name? Hanreid?"

"Tick, tock, the game is locked." The girl stood and darted soundlessly to the door. She opened it the barest crack, slipped out, and locked it behind her.

Bemused and exhausted, Wolfram fell back onto the floor and sank into sleep. He dreamed of children playing tag in the shadows.

-o0O0o-

He woke sluggishly to find himself tucked up in the huge bed. His head ached and spun from the earlier blood loss, but other than that he felt surprisingly good. The girl had a talent for healing.

Wolfram sat up and nearly jumped out of his skin to see the sorcerer standing at the bedside with a tray and another doctored meal in his hands. He must have been here some time. The room had once again been cleaned up and, he looked down at himself. A foggy haze filled the air from the fresh candles that had replaced the ones that must have burned down overnight. He no longer wore the white tunic. He'd been cleaned up and dressed in a sheer pink peignoir trimmed with intricate lace. Wolfram pulled the blankets up around him to hide what the robe did not.

"Now that you're awake, eat."

He set the tray across his lap and like before waited for him to eat. Wolfram stared at the oatmeal and felt nauseous. "I won't be able to keep it down."

"Eat."

Wolfram took a reluctant bite. The blander meal did even less to disguise the taste of the drugs than the stew he'd been given the night before. The urge to vomit rose then passed.

"Your husband was disappointed that you failed to give voice last night and ordered I find a different solution. I've adjusted the recipe to completely suppress the gag reflex. You can't vomit even if you stick your finger down your throat. Eat."

He obeyed. It sat in his stomach like lead. Wolfram tried to leave as much as possible behind by spreading it on the sides of the bowl as he ate, but the sorcerer took it and the spoon from him, scraped every bit up and pushed the dregs into his mouth.

The sorcerer gathered up the breakfast tray to set on his cart.

"Well done. Rest. Your husband was a little rougher with you than he'd intended last night. I'm impressed with your healing skills. I expected you to need days of nursing before you recovered enough for his next visit."

So they didn't know about the girl's visit in the night. He'd keep it that way, not just for her sake but his own. Half mad or not, he needed allies in this nest of vipers.

The sorcerer continued, "Lord von Hanreid is most pleased that he needn't wait to see you in pink again."

Wolfram stopped him before he opened the door. "Wait! You never answered my question."

"You have no need of answers, only to obey your husband."

Wolfram pressed on. "The drugs, this smoke, it's all meant to help him father a child on me, isn't it? As I told him, it can never happen. Hanreid is mad to think differently. You've helped him kidnap the fiancé of the King of Shin Makoku. That's a crime punishable by death, all for a goal you can never accomplish."

The cowl-garbed figure turned to face him. Unable to judge his reaction by the hidden facial expression, Wolfram made his offer blind. "Help me escape. Or get word to my family so they can find me. I will see to it that you do not suffer the full extent of the law with him."

"I do not fear your law. Your lord husband and I have an agreement that I am quite satisfied with. You and the child you will bear are my part of the bargain."

"There can't be a child!"

The sorcerer stared at him and Wolfram saw the faint gleam of his smile inside the hood of his robe. He turned and left him alone again.

He stared in the empty space he left. Those madmen actually believed that he'd eventually become pregnant. Wolfram shuddered, remembering Hanreid's promise on their wedding night. He faced night after night of rape until he either died or Hanreid killed him in frustration.

He didn't dare wait for Yuuri, Gwendal, and Conrart to find him. He had to get word to them, somehow find a way to put himself out of his captors' reach until help arrived. His heart sank. He had no idea how to do either.

Wolfram climbed out of bed and went back to the window. They'd shut it again to seal the smoke in. He shoved it wide as far as possible. The narrow gap created gave Wolfram a restricted view of a high-walled garden and the tops of trees on the other side. Beyond them was a road, well-traveled by the look of it. Maybe he could rig a signal for a passerby or better yet the rescue party when it arrived.

A sound drew his gaze down. Two men had entered the garden from somewhere and were pulling weeds. Desperate he punched at the window latch until the nails on one side gave way and pushed the casement as wide as it would go.

"Hello! Up here! Help me!"

The gardeners kept at their work as if they hadn't heard him. Maybe that trapping spell kept anyone from hearing him. Certainly no one had come to his screams on his wedding night. He had to find another way.

He ran to the fireplace where new wood had been laid on top of the cold ashes of the old. He scooped up a handful and went to the vanity. It was amply supplied with all the accoutrements a woman needed to make herself beautiful. He rummaged about for something to write on and found a kerchief that met his needs. Wolfram picked a bottle of scented oil and spilled a small puddle onto the varnished wood. Crumpling the ash into the oil, he blended them into an impromptu ink with his fingertip. Using the rattail end of the comb that he'd hoped to use as a weapon on his wedding night as a pen, he wrote his message:

'Hanreid's Prisoner. Send to Maoh. Wolfram von Bielefeld'

Wolfram sprinkled face powder over the surface, tied the kerchief around the lid of a small jar of face cream, and ran back to the window.

Thankfully, the gardeners were still hard at work. He forced his hand through the bars, aimed as best he was able, and tossed his message toward the nearest man as hard as the awkward position permitted.

It landed nearby and rolled a few feet to settle next to the garden's meandering stone path. Clutching the bars, Wolfram waited, silently urging them to see his lifeline. Their progress brought them closer, closer, and hope began to grow.

The two men abruptly stopped working, stood, and bowed. Wolfram watched in horror as the sorcerer walked into view and approached them. He bent and picked up the message.

Nononono!

The hood abruptly turned and lifted. Wolfram fell back too late, knowing the man had seen him.

That did it. He braced himself for the punishment that must come. But minutes stretched into hours with nothing happening. Wolfram spent a miserable day pacing and trying not to imagine what his captors were going to do to him.

When the door finally opened to admit the sorcerer, it was almost a relief. He took a deep breath and faced him.

The man walked to the vanity and replaced the lid on the cream jar. He held up the square of cotton so that Wolfram could see the words he'd written. Bits of powder drifted to the floor.

"That was a most unwise move, young lord. And you didn't even use your new name. How do you suppose your husband will react when he learns of this act of disobedience? I've seen him beat a servant to death for a much lesser offense. He may need you alive to bear his son, but that will not stop him from punishing you in ways that won't interfere with that or his enjoyment of you. He will probably work it into your nights together. He can be…very creative."

Wolfram bit his tongue to hold back the whimper trying to climb up his throat.

"What you've suffered so far will seem like a feather's caress by comparison to what he will do to you. What he will allow me to do to you. I've not had a healer as powerful as you for my experimentations. I wonder how long you'll last?"

Wolfram swallowed and clenched his hands into fists to hide their shaking. Surely Hanreid would not let the sorcerer have him, not if he wanted that child.

The sorcerer walked closer and Wolfram forced himself not to retreat. The effort left him shaking too hard to hide. A bone-thin finger trailed down his exposed chest. "Your heart is racing. I see you're smart enough not to want find out the answer."

He folded the cloth and tucked it inside his robes. "I'll keep this and my silence for a price." He listed his demands in a voice that brooked no argument. "You will eat and drink what I bring you. You will not in any way dilute it or expel it. You will perform as Lord von Hanreid requires. You will be the perfect bride. If you defy me in this, I will know. In that moment, your husband will know what you tried to do and you will suffer the consequences of your actions. Do we understand each other?"

Wolfram nodded stiffly. He managed a feeble whisper, "Yes."

"Do not forget."

The spellcaster spun and stalked out of the room. Wolfram numbly sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He'd fallen into the last trap, given control of his only weapon – defiance – to the sorcerer. He ought to call him on it, defy him to give him up to Hanreid. Fear choked him at the idea. He'd seen hints of the rage Hanreid was capable of. He didn't want to face that. Worse, he had no doubt that Hanreid would allow the sorcerer to use more of his warped magic on him.

Shame ravaged his spirit as he realized he was on the verge of succumbing after only two days. Shinou help me, give me strength. Don't let me weaken!

He tried to summon anger, pride, anything to combat the despair rising to drown him only to fail. When he reached inside, only fear and panic waited. It was as if every other emotion had somehow been walled away and out of reach.

The door slammed opened and Wolfram leapt to his feet to back away as Hanreid came in. He didn't speak, just rushed at him. Soon the powerful arms clamped like a vice around him in a grip he had no hope of breaking. The greedy mouth latched onto his, sucking at his lips and tongue.

Wolfram didn't fight back, sure the dark sorcerer must be watching somehow. Hanreid paused to gloat, "This is more like it, my wolf cub." He swept him off his feet and onto the bed.

Hours later, again sated for a time, Hanreid left him. Only then did Wolfram allow himself to weep.

"Yuuri, brothers, hurry, before there's nothing left of me."

-o0O0o-

Hanreid strode into the sorcerer's rooms and took the waiting cup. He gulped it down in two swallows before flopping into the arm chair by the fireplace.

"I take it things went well?"

He laughed and held the cup out to him, "Fear practically paralyzed him. Your potions are finally working. Soon he'll be putty in my hands. How long before he's pregnant?"

His sorcerer put away the empty mug and joined him before the roaring fire. "It isn't an exact science, my lord. I advise patience. The spell and components have only had three weeks to work on his spirit and flesh. The fact that he woke today naturally and aware means his body's defenses have succumbed at last, it won't be long now."

Hanreid steepled his fingers in front of his eyes and imagined Wolfram's face when he gave him the news and shattered his last hope.

"Good."

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! I think it's the longest chapter I've written to date. This story is literally evolving as I type. Please review, your feedback has been my inspiration. Constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Wolfram waits for a rescue that never comes. Hanreid continues to use force and magic to achieve his twisted ends. Wolfram's only respite from his brutality comes in sleep where dire secrets dance in the shadows. Be here for __**Chapter 11: Dreams This Side of Death.**_


	11. Dreams This Side of Death

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Once again my thanks to all who reviewed and made this story a favorite or checked it to follow. Here's the next installment. It's the longest yet and I hope worth the wait. Review to let me know what you think._

_Warning: There is nonconsensual sex in this chapter._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 11: Dreams This Side of Death**

_**The First Months**_

Wolfram stared out the window beyond the wall of the inner garden where the road that led to Hanreid's estates remained empty.

It made no sense! Why hadn't anyone come? Wolfram fought against despair. He'd run out of logical reasons for the delay in his rescue. He had to accept it. Something must be seriously wrong.

Eight days had passed since he went with Hanreid to save Yuuri's life. Wolfram frowned, make that eight times he'd awakened in his prison. More than once he'd come to with the sense that more time than a single night had passed. On some occasions he found traces that Hanreid had violated him while he was unconscious, though without the associated pain, which meant his body had had time to recover.

Wolfram couldn't stop himself from glancing at the candles burning in the room behind him. Their fetid fumes no longer bothered him. His food tasted normal to him now though he knew they were still drugging him. If things continued as they were, he knew his body must eventually grow accustomed to the life Hanreid intended for him.

Without the emotional connection of a love bond, Wolfram had a measure of control over his body's responses. So far he'd been able to deny him the reaction Hanreid used his considerable skill to try to force from him. He resisted with all he had though thanks to the spells leeching his strength, it amounted to little more than squirming under Hanreid's weight and the groping hands that brutishly fondled him between arousals. Hanreid mocked him for it, punished him while whispering promises of tenderness and ease if he'd come willingly to his arms. A traitorous part of him had started to whisper, just once. What harm could it do?

He wrapped his arms around himself against the shiver rippling through him that had nothing to do with the breeze coming in the window. Hanreid and his pet spellcaster were changing him. Wolfram sensed strangeness in his body, clouds in his mind that no effort allowed him to penetrate. He stared out the window at the ever empty road.

"Where are you?" he whispered in a shaky voice.

"Still looking for your precious big brother to come riding out of the distance like a hero of legend at the head of a small army to save you from your horrible fate?" the hated voice shattered the quiet and his fragile peace.

"What else is there for me to do, trapped in here?" he replied bitterly.

Hanreid came up behind him and Wolfram tensed against the sensation of fingers brushing his hair off the back of his neck and the wet kisses that followed.

"Stop wasting time watching an empty road. There are better ways to spend the next hour or so."

Wolfram clenched his teeth and braced himself as powerful arms ensnared him and carried him to the bed.

Hanreid sprawled on top of him and sent his grasping fingers into his clothes. "It's a wasted vigil, my wolf cub," he told him with gloating pleasure as Wolfram gasped and writhed under his manipulations. "No one is coming to save you. They've all abandoned you to me."

"Liar!" Wolfram pushed at his tormentor's chest and turned his head away from the mouth ardently seeking his. "Yuuri and my brothers _are_ coming!"

"I can almost admire such blind faith," the older Mazoku whispered against his cheek, "after nearly two months."

Months? He knew he'd been missing time, but months? Wolfram tried to deny it. "What do you take me for? My family would never leave me in your hands for so long."

Hanreid paused in his assault and the shift in the expression on his face, as if his prey had at last fallen into a long-set trap, sent cold dread through Wolfram's gut.

"You don't believe me? Let me prove it to you."

As if the words were a signal, the door swung wide and the sorcerer walked in. Wolfram felt his cheeks flush red with shame and embarrassment. Bad enough that Hanreid brutalized him on a regular basis, he hated that he allowed the sorcerer to be a voyeur to his rape. Still, the other man never displayed any signs of interest other than clinical. All he cared about was whether or not Wolfram "took."

He stopped several feet away, bowed, and asked in his usual flat voice, "How may I serve, Lord von Hanreid?"

Hanreid coiled his arms and legs around him, chin resting on the top of his head, like living restraints so that Wolfram's back pressed against his chest.

"Show my deluded husband," he ordered the hooded magic wielder, "his so-called loving family."

Thin hands lifted, long fingers wove complicated patterns in the air. He laced them together with a clap then slowly drew them apart. Between the cupped palms something the size and shape of a ship's porthole appeared. Its creator stepped back and spread his arms wide. Gradually the portal expanded until it stood man high.

At first all Wolfram saw was a heavy fog. That soon thinned to reveal his mother's garden. A riot of colors blossomed throughout and Wolfram felt his heart sink at the evidence of the passage of time. These were the summer blossoms; it was spring when he'd been kidnapped. Hanreid hadn't lied. Months had passed without him being aware.

The door in the far wall opened and Conrart stepped through.

At the sight, Wolfram made a try for the portal. If he reached it before they could stop him, his brother would help him. That hope quickly died. Hanreid's grip tightened like iron as soon as he moved. Wolfram strained against it, but he didn't last long. He had no stamina. Within seconds Wolfram's body failed him and he slumped, limp and trembling, in his chuckling captor's embrace.

"Did you actually think I'd allow you so easy an escape? You grow desperate my wolf cub. Sorcerer!"

At the snapped command, the tall man reached out and knocked on the air where the portal stood. The action sent a deep ringing tone through the air to hum in his bones.

"There's no passing through that. It's a window of sorts, not a portal like the one that transported us here."

Wolfram buried his frustration at help in sight but not in reach. He watched Conrart scan the area with a guardsman's eye before stepping aside to make way for Yuuri and Murata. Murata's arms waved about in exaggerated movements as he told a story or joke, probably the latter judging by Yuuri's laughing reaction. But he heard nothing, only saw the movement of their lips.

Hanreid boasted as if the magic were his own. "I can see into any place I want to. I've used to it to spy on my enemies and ferret out evidence of the secrets they pay dearly to keep."

"Why can't we hear them?"

"This spell doesn't allow sound to pass through. I'm not fool enough to trust you not to shout a warning and expose us. I keep my secrets mine. But really, do you need to hear them?"

The magical vantage point was too far away to read lips, but all three seemed relaxed as they enjoyed the warmth of the day.

"Do they look like they're planning a rescue mission?"

Wolfram wanted to deny the implication, but Hanreid was right. Conrart and Murata could put on masks to deceive if required, but not Yuuri. His fiancé didn't have a drop of guile in him. Everything showed on his face and right now it expressed, he swallowed against the tightening in his throat, happiness.

"They've bowed to the inevitable. You are where you belong." How he hated the superiority in that calm, deceptive voice. "The courts upheld our marriage contract once they reviewed all of the facts. Von Voltaire and your Mother didn't have a legal leg to stand on. Our bond is sanctioned as well as consummated."

"I don't believe you!" Wolfram challenged. "I would have to be part of any proceedings where that decision came down."

Hanreid lips against the nape of his neck sent a shudder over his skin. "As a tribute bride, mine is the only voice you have now. It helped that my sorcerer's window gave me the ammunition I needed to ensure a positive ruling. Want another demonstration?"

Wolfram closed his eyes as he struggled to marshal his strained resources against this new emotional assault. "Why? There's nothing you'd show me that I want to see."

Hanreid nuzzled the back of his head. "Is that right? I'd wager you wouldn't mind another peek at your precious Yuuri."

Wolfram refused to be drawn in.

"Oh, well. There are other games we can play instead."

Hanreid forced a more intimate contact. Wolfram gave in, anything to put off another round with him.

"Alright! Show me."

With a chuckle, Hanreid sat up, pulling him along until he sat between his thighs. He clamped one arm around his waist to keep him there. He nodded at the sorcerer.

"You heard him."

The sorcerer brushed his fingers across the magical surface and the mists parted again to reveal a view of Blood Pledge Castle as if they were piggybacking on a Boney. A gesture and they were peering into the garden again where Conrart and Greta sat making flower crowns and laughing. Another flick and they looked on Gwendal at his desk reviewing reports. Each move of the sorcerer's hand drove like a spike through his hopes: the maids spying and adjusting their love lottery odds, his mother preparing to set sail, scene after scene of everyone living their lives without him.

"Not very heartbroken are they?" Hanreid caressed his hair in mock comfort. "They've moved on. They have accepted that your future is no longer with them. They've given you to me."

Wolfram shook his head in numb denial of what his eyes confirmed. It had to be a trick. His soul cried out against the lie, but his mind found no way to refute it. He tried but his thoughts just ran in useless circles all coming around to the horrible conclusion that he'd been abandoned. Hanreid's roaming hand further interfered with his ability to think clearly.

"It's all lies," he panted under Hanreid's assault. "They wouldn't…they…."

That's when the view changed one last time. They moved through the corridor that led to the Ambassador's Suite – the best of the rooms set apart for visiting dignitaries. They passed liveried porters carrying luggage to the front of the small procession. Before them marched a sour-faced dowager who frowned in stern vigilance at the couple before her.

Yuuri and a young maiden, quite lovely with bright blue eyes and a spill of tightly curled pale brown hair. Her hand rested with quiet grace on his arm as he escorted her. Their lips moved in lively conversation. Wolfram felt sick.

"I bet you'd love to be a fly on that wall. Even if we had the capacity, I'd not permit sound to pass. They deserve their privacy." He gave a squeeze that caused Wolfram's spine to arch. Hanreid took his earlobe between his teeth and gnawed gently. "Still it's easy enough to guess what's going on."

As they watched, Yuuri led the party to the door of the grand suite. He lingered in the doorway with the girl and her chaperone while the servants dealt with their baggage. Wolfram watched as Yuuri took that delicate hand in his and raised it to his lips like a lifetime courtier. They stood smiling and peering into each other's eyes until the woman took the girl firmly by the arm, pulled her inside, and politely shut the door.

No.

"She's quite lovely. I doubt anyone objected to her as the new consort to the Maoh."

No.

"Judging by that smile, Yuuri Heika is suffering no conflicts over his new status at all."

No!

Brutal fingers forced Wolfram to turn away from the sight of Yuuri lingering outside the closed door. "Even that boy king you've given your devotion to has seen reason. He knows he can never have you – if he ever wanted you."

"Liar!" Wolfram tried to wrench his chin free of his grasp, but Hanreid tightened it with bruising force.

"Why lie when the truth serves me so well? Face facts. You've been abandoned by all but me. And I will never let you go." Hanreid stared down at him and Wolfram found himself mesmerized by that implacable glare and his chilling words. "You cling to a dead hope, dear Wolfram. Defy me, resist me; fight your fate all you like. Each time I take you, each time you wake to another day when no one has come to your rescue, will drive the nails deeper into that coffin."

Hanreid forced his chin around again so Wolfram had to watch the spell window as it closed. Something fragile crumpled inside him as he watched his fiancé retreat back down the hall with a light step and lips curved in a dreamy smile. Yuuri had never graced him with the like in all the years they'd been together.

Wolfram tried to order his quailing heart and mind not to believe any of it. Things had been getting better with him and Yuuri since his return. There must be some explanation for what Hanreid had made him witness. If only he could think, he'd find the holes in Hanreid's evidence. Why couldn't he think?

Hanreid sent them falling backward onto the bedding and rolled so Wolfram lay underneath him. He had no chance to struggle or even brace himself for the attack. While his captor violated his body, Wolfram turned his thoughts away from what was happening to him. He imagined his rescue – Gwendal and Conrart bursting through the door, Hanreid and his sorcerer falling to their swords. He envisioned Yuuri entering the room on their heels to embrace him, healing him.

_If they were coming, shouldn't they have been here by now?_

Wolfram startled at the strange words in his mind. With a growl, Hanreid tightened his hold without breaking stride.

_Where are they? They've left you to this monster. Why keep watching the horizon for a rescue that is never going to come?_

Wolfram tried to ignore the thoughts but they grew more intense, swamping the arguments he tried to raise until nothing else remained in his head.

_If that so-called family of yours truly wanted you back, do you really think they'd let a court's ruling stop them? This is your truth: now that you're soiled goods, they want no part of you. You have only your own strength to rely on, and that has failed you again and again._

"_That's not true, they've drugged me and…"_

_You are a coward and a weakling. No wonder your brothers see no reason to expend the effort to take you back. You bring nothing but dishonor to them._

"_No!"_

_Hanreid uses you, and all you do is spread your legs, lie there, and take it. A common whore is more discerning._

"_I don't! He…"_

But with Hanreid inside him and rocking their bodies without any hindrance from him, those words rang with a twisted truth. Wolfram mustered the last of his energy to fight back. He had to prove the voice wrong. But he'd missed his opportunity. His rapist climaxed with a triumphant cry. Hanreid stared down at him while he panted from the exertion. From the corner of his eye, Wolfram saw the sorcerer approach the bedside.

_And never of word of protest as this man watches your shameful behavior. Does an audience thrill you?_

"_Shut up!"_

Hanreid shifted just enough to allow the cold hand to caress Wolfram's cringing stomach.

"Did he take?"

The head beneath the ever present hood shook in the negative. Hanreid cursed softly and shoved himself off of Wolfram to the edge of the bed and onto his feet.

They left Wolfram barely conscious to deal with the aftermath. The voice however gave him no respite. It filled his head as it ramped up its insidious rant.

_All these years you've admired your brothers, done whatever the elder one asked of you. You worked hard so he'd be proud of you, and for what? To be given to a man without my consent? They've abandoned me without a word of regret or explanation. If my family cared about me – even a little – I'd be safe now. Why fight anymore? They sold me. Maybe if I surrender to Hanreid and become the husband he wants, things will get better. That's the only way._

At some point, the voice's tense changed. Wolfram rocked his head back and forth in an attempt to clear his mind, but the ugly thoughts clung like leeches and grew louder and more tenacious until he no longer had the ability to distinguish them from his own.

_It's time I let go of hope. I don't have to suffer like this. Hanreid is my husband. I must accept my fate. He'll be kinder to me if I do. _

Wolfram sat up so abruptly that he triggered a fierce headache. The voice stopped. He cradled his face in his hands and groaned. Hanreid's sorcerer must have somehow planted those words in his head to further weaken him for their plots. Wolfram almost smiled. He'd never be so far gone that he'd believe that last statement. His foes had pushed too far with that one and broken the mind-altering mantra. For the first time in days, the clouding in his mind had receded until he felt almost normal.

He almost wished it hadn't. It meant he had a clearer sense of his desperate situation. If they now attacked both his mind and body…. A terrible certainty began to rise in place of the voice that this was indeed all the future held for him. Hours passed before Wolfram was able to shove it down far enough to allow a fitful sleep to claim him.

-o0O0o-

From his vantage behind the magicked wall, Hanreid watched Wolfram twitch in his sleep. His famous beauty was beginning to fray under the strain, and he himself was fast losing patience.

"How much longer is this going to take? I am enjoying the process of creating my heir immensely, but I need results. Wolfram must be full term before the year is out for my plans to work. If he isn't pregnant in the next two days, the timing won't work."

"He will be, Lord von Hanreid," the sorcerer promised as he too watched, no doubt gleaning information from what they saw that his own untrained eye missed. "His body chemistry is nearly optimal, as is your potency. I already have the components for the potion steeping. Once administered, your husband's body will respond to your every touch as if you were true lovers. His womb will ripen."

"When will it be ready?"

"Tonight."

-o0O0o-

Wolfram woke bleary-eyed and queasy. Again, the bedding had been changed under him. His clothes had been stripped from him and he'd been dressed in one of the more risqué garments from the closet. He tried to rise and find something more modest, but his body refused to obey. He had no energy left to move. Everything ached, but then he always hurt now. Hanreid's attentions ensured that the pain never had time to fully fade.

He curled on his side under the blankets in hopes of getting more sleep. Unfortunately, the sorcerer chose that moment to enter for his daily examination to see if he'd conceived.

"You're wasting your time," Wolfram growled at the sudden cold when he pulled the covers off of him. "Hanreid will never get a child on me."

"He is your husband. Call him Gregor." The sorcerer bent closer to press that boney hand once again to his stomach. "He might be gentler with you."

Calling his unwanted husband by his first name meant he had accepted his situation. Wolfram shuddered and didn't bother to reply.

The other man's twisted magic send a crawling icy sensation through his body. It didn't exactly hurt, but it felt foreign, wrong. When he finally withdrew, Wolfram quickly covered himself with the blankets and scowled at him.

"Why do you bother seeking signs that I have quickened with Hanreid's child? I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone in my life. Conception is impossible."

The sorcerer stepped back from the bed. "That is not what I look for. My lord, he is ready."

Out of one of the chairs by the fire, Hanreid rose like a specter. He strode toward them in a robe and obviously nothing else. "You said he was ready three days ago and nothing came of it."

Reaching into a voluminous sleeve, the spellcaster pulled out a small vial of a clear pink liquid. "Even unconscious his body resists you. I did not factor in the affects of the adrenaline surges during your encounters. The drugs and his body chemistry are now perfectly balanced. This," he touched the glass stopper of the vial, "will ensure that he physically responds to you as a true lover would. Seed him after it takes affect and he will conceive."

Wolfram's whole body went cold. He'd guessed that the fumes from the candles and the tainted food had been meant to induce pregnancy, but he'd never worried. All he knew, everything he'd been taught as a healer, said it was impossible. Magical means had been tried in the past but had never worked.

Yet the two men closing on him seemed sure, confident.

Panic gave him new strength. Wolfram heaved himself up and scrambled to the edge of the bed with the intent of escaping to the bathing room and barricading himself there long enough for his terror to upset the balance the sorcerer needed. Not much of a plan but all he had.

A cruel grip on his ankle dragged him backward. Wolfram kicked out with his free leg, tried to drag himself away by clawing at the bedding, but the two men quickly overpowered him. Pinned to the mattress between them, Wolfram watched the sorcerer pull the stopper from the vial. He clenched his jaws tight. Hanreid pried his mouth wide for the sorcerer who poured his concoction onto the back of his tongue.

Wolfram tried to gag it up. Hanreid covered his mouth with his massive hand. Wolfram bucked and twisted but to no avail. Liquid heat spread across his palette, hitting his bloodstream to flow through his body and settle in his groin. He felt his breathing grow ragged as the effects of the potion began to make themselves known. Sensations that left him gasping spread through him from the points where Hanreid's body touched his. The hand covering his mouth shifted to caress the line of his chin and Wolfram's body responded in ways that shamed and terrified him.

Hanreid tipped his head up for a long, deep kiss. Feelings surged that caused his eyelids to flutter and his heart to race. When he broke the kiss, Wolfram lay gasping beneath him only able to stare up at him. He feared the lust that burned avid in those eyes found their mirror in his own.

"That's more like it," the man on top of him whispered.

Hanreid wasted no time positioning their bodies. "Get out!" he ordered the sorcerer. The spellcaster responsible for this nightmare obeyed but not before flashing Wolfram a smile of triumph out of the darkness of his hood, twin to the predator's grin that split Hanreid's face.

Tossing aside his robe, he grabbed Wolfram's hips. Unwanted arousal swept through him and when Hanreid swept down on him, Wolfram broke.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid gazed upon his wolf cub, savoring the afterglow. For the first time since their wedding night, he'd seen fear in those beautiful eyes. Not of death – Wolfram knew he needed him alive – nor was it for his loved ones.

Wolfram had finally learned to fear him. The seeds he'd been planting and nurturing for longer than he'd thought would be necessary had finally taken root and sprouted through the defiance that had sustained him since his kidnapping.

He traced the sweating brow with a finger just to watch the ethereal face twist with despair as the body under him reacted, still in the grip of the sorcerer's potion.

"Damn you," he whispered in a voice raw from screaming, "get off of me!"

Wolfram's attempt to reestablish the distance between them devolved into a wrenching moan when he pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't think so. What kind of husband walks away from his spouse as if he were a whore?"

"You've done it before," Wolfram bit out. "St…stop it!"

But he didn't, not until his lover quivered with reluctant need. Wolfram's face and body flushed a pale rose under his caresses. Tears escaped the pale lashes and he kissed each one away.

"I like this look on you," he breathed against the cringing lips. "Arousal suits you. I'll have my sorcerer cook up a supply of his potion. We must do this more often."

The green eyes hardened with resolve. "I'll…kill you…first!" he panted.

Hanreid laughed at him. "Empty threats don't influence me. Try begging again. I might be moved to mercy."

His wolf cub's shame deepened his flush. In the wake of his shattering spirit, he had pleaded so sweetly. He begged him to stop, not to do this to him, promised to do whatever he wanted if he'd let him go. It had been so fine hearing the panic rise as their coupling escalated. They'd both felt the difference from every time before. In the morning he knew his sorcerer would confirm what his own instincts declared.

He maneuvered his feebly struggling lover until he held him spooned to his chest. With his free hand, he palmed the flat belly where his long-awaited son had finally taken. Hanreid sank into blissful sleep to the sound of Wolfram's barely muffled sobs.

-o0O0o-

A baby's cry echoed through the castle. Somewhere an infant wanted its mother. Wolfram tried to ignore the noise. Surely the mother must come to tend the baby soon.

But the crying went on, growing louder until ignoring it became impossible. Sighing, Wolfram rolled out of bed. He groped in the darkness of his old room for his robe and boots but gave up when the cries grew to ear piercing levels. He set out instead to comfort the miserable infant and find and chastise the mother for leaving the poor thing alone so long.

The door opened on a hallway that echoed with emptiness. Where was everyone? There should be soldiers on sentry duty, maids about their daily chores.

Another piercing wail caused him to wince. Wolfram listened until he figured out the direction and followed the sound. It didn't take long for frustration to set in. Every time he got close, the sound cut off only to take up again from a totally different direction. He wandered the castle for what felt like hours without seeing a soul.

Something wasn't right. Perhaps he should dress and make his way to the temple. Surely someone there knew what was going on.

The baby's cries changed location again. Now they came from the corridor to the Maoh's suite. Who would keep a baby there? Wolfram quick stepped down the hallway, the flagstones frigid against the soles of his bare feet. The cold crept into his body until by the time he reached Yuuri's door he shivered with it. Wolfram pushed the door wide and entered.

The instant he crossed the threshold, the crying stopped. Something was _very_ wrong. A sense of foreboding began to grow in his chest and he wished he'd brought his sword with him.

Yuuri's room was exactly the same except for a crib on Wolfram's side of the canopied bed. With wary glances around the empty room, he strode quickly over to peer inside. It too was empty except for one of Gwendal's knitted creatures. None of this made any sense!

Off in the distance a bell began to toll, soon joined by others. Wolfram froze as he listened to the pattern in disbelief.

It was a rhythm that had never rung in his lifetime, that he'd pledged his life and honor to never hear while he lived.

No. It can't be.

He ran to the windows, grabbed the heavy brocaded curtains to pull them aside and looked down into the courtyard below. A solitary groan escaped his tightening lungs at the site that he'd prayed would not be there.

A line of mourners filled each side of the road between Blood Pledge Castle and Shinou's temple, trailing in the wake of the wagon drawn by a lone black horse that bore the coffin of the man the bells rang for.

Just behind the coffin rode his brothers and mother as escort to Greta who rode her own mount with a small child mounted before her. As if sensing his scrutiny, the toddler looked over his shoulder and up to peer back at him with brilliant green eyes. The hair, the skin, even the shape of his chin echoed his father.

"No." His knees refused to hold him up and Wolfram sank toward the floor.

Powerful arms wrapped around him from behind and yanked him back from the window.

"I told everyone you were prostrate with grief," Hanreid growled in his ear. "I won't have anyone seeing otherwise."

Wolfram kicked and thrashed the entire way to the bed where Hanreid sent him sprawling.

"What do you think you're doing?" Wolfram demanded as he twisted out of reach. "Get out! This is Yuuri's room."

Fresh from a bath, damp hair still dripping and only a towel wrapped around his waist, Hanreid stalked him across the covers and trapped him against the headboard. "Where else would I be? Yuuri is dead and I am your soon-to-be consort. Oh it won't be official until after the mourning period, but why let that stop me? If I get a spare brat off you, all the better."

A brutal hand tore his nightgown out of the way while the other clamped over his mouth to stifle his screams of denial and grief.

-o0O0o-

Those screams woke him. Half sobbing air into his starved lungs, Wolfram flung the quilt covering him aside and ran for the bath where he just made it to the toilet to throw up what little sat in his stomach. Several minutes passed before the spasms stopped. He slumped to the floor in exhaustion.

What a horrible dream. He blamed Hanreid and his tame spellcaster for planting the seeds of it. What worried him was the fact that he'd had a nightmare at all. Until now, sleep had been his only respite from his tormented life. He dreamed of happier times, of safety. Sometimes he dreamed of carefree days with Yuuri minus the awkwardness that arose whenever the subject of their engagement came up. He'd looked forward to the only few hours of peace his captors allowed him.

If sleep no longer offered sanctuary, Wolfram feared that he'd weaken to the point where he lost his grip on his true self and become the tool Hanreid needed to make that nightmare reality.

He heard the rattle of the cart as his jailer brought his tainted breakfast. Just the smell of it sent him into dry heaves. He was helpless to do anything but cling to the bowl until they passed. Wolfram raised his head to find the sorcerer watching him as if he were a specimen to study.

"Go away," he moaned. "Can't I have privacy even here?"

As usual, his wishes went ignored. The sorcerer scooped him up as if he weighed no more than a little child and carried him back to the freshly made bed. Once stretched out on top of the covers, Wolfram had to endure another of his impersonal physical examinations. He bit his lip and turned away. He hated the almost ritualistic probing, which was a violation in its own right.

The sorcerer finished and wiped his hands on a towel before adding it to the pile of soiled linens on the cart. He then brought over the lap tray with its covered dish. Wolfram turned away.

"Eat," he ordered. "You need to maintain your strength."

Wolfram snorted as he sat up, "Stop drugging my food and I might consider it."

The sorcerer just continued to stare and wait. "I'd eat before your lord husband visits unless you want his assistance again."

The memory those words conjured drained the color from Wolfram's face. Early on, the drugs had made him so sick that Wolfram had risked refusing to eat anything they brought him. Hanreid had choked him unconscious and he came to wrists and ankles bound together behind his back and Hanreid relentlessly spooning the tainted porridge into his mouth and using his tongue to force it to the back of his throat until Wolfram had to swallow or choke. And after he'd swallowed the last bit….

His hand shook when he picked up the spoon. Sure now that he'd eat, the sorcerer wheeled the cart to the door and left him. Within moments, as promised, Hanreid returned.

"Good morning, my love. Sleep well?"

Cradled in your arms through the night? Hardly. Wolfram didn't answer him and kept eating. The man simply closed the distance between them and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Wolfram dug his nails into the wood of the breakfast tray to keep from retaliating when Hanreid's mouth and tongue laid claim to him. Hanreid leaned back as he broke away to watch his struggle to remain aloof.

"You're learning. Remember when you used to sputter and try to summon your fire?"He lightly punched his chin and sat beside him on the bed. "You were so cute and helpless after the spells hit you."

"Something I prefer not to be, thank you very much."

Wolfram shifted away from him, but Hanreid snaked one arm around his waist to pin him to his side. With his free hand, he removed the tray and set on the side table. Wolfram half heartedly turned away from the face buried in the curve of his neck and shoulder. Hanreid's chuckles rumbled deep in his throat and chest while his mouth sucked and gnawed at his skin. The hot fingers roaming his skin made him want to lose his breakfast but the potions in the cereal denied him that response.

"How about thinking up games we can play?" The fingers reached his head, combed into his hair and pulled him into lingering kisses. "I have an excellent imagination but it'll be more fun when we both participate."

Wolfram did his best to dodge the mouth seeking his. "Whatever pleasure you get out of this farce you'll have to take. I will give you nothing."

Hanreid laughed aloud at him. "Oh, but you've already given me everything, my wolf cub."

Something in his tone carried more than the usual taunts. Wolfram turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

"Even if that rescue you watch so fruitlessly for came today, it is too late." Powerful hands pulled him across Hanreid's lap and he placed a possessive hand against Wolfram's lower belly. "At this time next year, you will give birth to my son."

Wolfram's entire body, the world around him, froze. He managed to whisper, "You've finally gone totally insane."

"A marriage that bears fruit is forever binding. No court in this world can free you from me now."

Shock stole half the sense from Hanreid's gloating words. Wolfram shook his head in denial. It was impossible for him to be pregnant. He hated Gregor von Hanreid. If not for the spells and the threats to those he loved, he'd have happily strangled the man in his sleep. He simply could not be pregnant.

Then some of the haze in his mind lifted and he remembered being forced to take another drug and the way his body had responded to Hanreid's every touch, from the brush of a fingertip to the repeated climaxes….

No. It can't be!

Hanreid brought them skin to skin. "In a few months your gravid state will impede my enjoyment of you. I don't intend to let the time until then go to waste."

For once Wolfram ignored him, he barely heard him. Frantically, he sent his awareness deep down into his body. Shock turned to horror as he found the changes that he'd been taught to recognize in a pregnant Mazoku.

The truth of Hanreid's claim overwhelmed him. He was ruined. Even if he swore on Shinou's blood that he'd been forced into marriage and raped, the Court of Lords would not take him seriously. A child was irrefutable proof in the eyes of the law that he and Hanreid belonged together.

The further consequences cascaded like falling dominoes, devastating him.

This pregnancy was evidence that he had betrayed his king in the worst way. The Ten Aristocrats would end his engagement to Yuuri without delay or recourse to minimize the scandal. He'd never be allowed near him or Greta ever again. His family, he'd lost them too. They had no choice now but to disown him. His rank, his commission, his troops, all would be given to a more deserving Mazoku.

Everything. He'd just lost everything. Wolfram looked up into the face of the man pinning him to the mattress and forcing his way between his thighs. Shinou, this was all he had left?

No, oh please, no!

Hanreid hung poised over him until that final undeniable realization showed on his face. "_That's_ what I've been waiting for!"

Wolfram screamed with the fresh pain of another rape. No. Legally this was the lovemaking of a man and his spouse. All because a baby grew inside him, no matter the circumstances of its conception. He cursed the unnatural child and the man on top of him. Hanreid just tightened his hold and deepened his rhythm.

Pain like needles began to spread into his muscles and crawled toward his heart. Wolfram opened his mouth to tell Hanreid to stop, that something was wrong. But then he saw the fixed lecherous expression on his face, the obsession burning in dilated eyes, and said nothing. If this was what his future held, he wanted no part of it. Wolfram embraced the pain and…let go.

Engrossed in his rutting, Hanreid never noticed when his soul left his battered body behind.

-o0O0o-

He became aware of a hand soothing his brow and the wonderful sensation when that touch did not inspire the shame, fear, or dread that Hanreid had filled his life with.

"We all find our way here eventually. You took longer than expected, young Wolfram. You are as strong as we need you to be."

Wolfram opened heavy eyelids and blinked the blur out of his vision. Everything felt surreal. A part of him felt the echoes of the rape his body suffered at Hanreid's whim, yet he also lay on a soft pile of white sheepskins in amazing ease, his head cradled in the lap of a woman with sad empty eyes who looked vaguely familiar. She wore a simple white robe with voluminous sleeves tied with a blood red sash at the waist. Looking down at his own body, he saw he'd been garbed the same except his sash was pale blue.

His wandering gaze fell on five equally sad-faced urchins dressed identically to the woman who had crowded close apparently for a look at him. They danced back to the edge of a circle of light that surrounded them when he moved. Beyond the white gleam, Wolfram made out shadowy figures stalking in the darkness. A flash of orange or yellow reflected light spoke predator eyes to him, but he somehow knew nothing natural hunted out there.

"Am I dreaming?" he wondered aloud.

"From your perspective, I supposed it seems so." The woman shrugged. "If that explanation makes it easier for you to understand, then the answer is yes."

Wolfram swallowed. "Am I dead?"

"You will wish it so, many times in the months to come, but no. I've told you not to die. You gave your word."

Wolfram pushed himself up so he faced her. The children moved a little closer, cautious and curious.

"I remember you now. You healed me before. Where am I? What's going on?"

Instead of answering, the woman pointed to a carrot-haired boy with a bright spray of freckles across high-boned cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

"This is Eric. His mother lives in a small hamlet near the human territories called Good Harvests. An apparent misnomer for all their hard labor barely pulled food enough to feed their family, let alone leave enough to sell or trade for their needs. He came here looking for day labor."

The boy stepped forward and bowed awkwardly. "Remember me."

Her upraised finger traveled to a girl with deep brown hair tied up in a ponytail that reached to the small of her back. Her dark stare held resentment and her fists kept clenching at her sides.

"This is Ilse. She ran away from home – she hasn't said where that is yet – to find a better life. She found Hanreid."

Ilse refused to meet his eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she mumbled, "Remember me."

Two more, a boy and a girl who looked so much alike Wolfram knew they had to be siblings, stepped forward with the first smiles Wolfram had seen in this strange place.

The woman introduced them. "These are Kurt and Marta. Their family is beholden to the von Hanreid house. They work his farmlands and bring in his harvests. They didn't have to come as far as the others to be lost."

The boy bowed at the waist and his little sister gave a sweet curtsey that made Wolfram think of his own Greta. "Remember us."

The finger moved to the last child who remained at a distance. She had long blond hair and a body too thin for good health. Pale blue eyes gazed out but didn't seem to see anything. Ilse skipped back to poke her in the ribs with her bony elbow and the girl revived a bit.

"It's your turn," the little one stage whispered.

"This is Lily," the woman made the last introduction. "Her father is a wrangler with the seasonal caravans that carry goods to towns and villages throughout Shin Makoku. He believes her taken by wolves or wildcats in the night so he never knew to search for her. He grieves for her still."

Those words put emotion into the girl's emptied eyes and a single tear formed to drop down her cheek. Wolfram found himself crossing the space between them to hug her to his chest. After a bit she hugged back and whispered against his heart, "Remember me."

Lily pushed out of his hold and stepped backward through the light into the darkness beyond. The other children followed her. Wolfram watched as they darkened and blended in with the other darting shadows that closed in like the night hunters he'd first likened them to.

Wolfram turned back to the woman who was now his only companion. "Please, what is happening here?"

"Do not be afraid of them."

"I'm not afraid," he denied, averting his gaze so she didn't see the lie. "Everything's gone mad. Hanreid forced himself on me, yet I carry his child. That's supposed to be impossible. He's taken everything I've worked for my entire life from me. Because of him I've lost my family, my friends, Yuuri. How can I face any of them now? I hate him! I…!"

"Calm yourself or waste what you have been given."

Shaking with the emotions he'd been forced to keep bottled up unexpressed in his deepest heart for so long, it took a while for Wolfram to calm down enough to ask, "What do you mean?"

"How do you feel?"

Wolfram opened his mouth to say awful, but hesitated. To his surprise, he actually felt refreshed. The physical and spiritual pain that had dogged him even here seemed to have faded to an echo of their intensity when he'd first arrived in this strange place. He felt strength returning though when he reached for his magic he remained cut off. He turned in wonder to the wall of shadows around them.

"It is their gift to you in exchange for your gift of remembrance. There are many more tales to be told and remembered; they will come on other nights. We intended to come to you one at a time but this night you had desperate need."

Wolfram remembered the sinking sensation, the fading when he'd given up, just before waking in this odd haven. "You saved me didn't you? Why?" He rounded on the woman who simply looked on. He didn't want to admit his weakness but the words kept coming. "So I can be raped every day until I die? I can't bear his touch anymore! Each time he takes me I feel a piece of my soul wither and die. I'd rather die all at once than in slivers. Why did you interfere? At least I could have denied him his pleasures." He clutched at his belly as if he could tear the unwanted life out of him, "Better still, with my death I deprive Hanreid of the child that he wants to use to destroy my people. Why didn't you let me die?!"

Cool fingers bracketed his face and with that touch calm fell over Wolfram like a pall. He stood there panting as soothing warmth spread into him from that touch.

"You have more to live for than you know, Wolfram von Bielefeld," the woman told him with a gentle smile that did not reach her eyes. "Your family has never and will never abandon you. Yuuri Heika will not blame you for what has been done to you nor shame you by casting you aside. He will welcome you back with joy. This babe," she thumbed his tears away, "he will accept with open arms."

Wolfram shook his head. "Even if Yuuri wanted to, he can't. He is our King. Whoever he marries must be free of even a trace of scandal. I'm no longer suitable. The Ten Aristocrats will rightly advise him to set me aside and chose another." Resentment colored his next words and he didn't care. "If they haven't already. There are plenty among the nobles waiting for the opportunity to take my place at Yuuri's side."

Her smile didn't waiver. "You underestimate your value in their eyes."

Wolfram rather thought she overestimated it but said nothing. Instead he asked a question that had been growing behind his teeth since their conversation began.

"You're much more coherent than you were when we first met. What was wrong?"

"The corrupted magic fueling the sorcerer's spell workings has consequences he is unaware of. I won't be able to come to you like that again, but when you sleep, the way to this place is clearer and the children and I will bring you here to rest and heal as often as we can."

The light around them wavered, causing her head to jerk around. Wolfram's senses began a slow spin like vertigo and he clutched at her for support.

"Our time is done," she explained and pulled away. "You must go back."

"No!" Wolfram clutched at her sleeve to hold her close but his fingers passed through it as if it were made of clouds. "I don't want to go back! Please!"

But she was gone. The circle of light tightened around him until a step in any direction meant entering the shadows which had suddenly become more threatening. Hatred radiated from it that fed his rising panic. Wolfram stood rigid as they crept closer. The moment the light failed, all sensation vanished. No light, no air, no sound. He opened his mouth to scream.

Pain hit his chest like lightning, again and again. Then the sense of falling overcame everything.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid climaxed and slumped on top of his limp husband, sated and triumphant.

Wolfram had broken at last. He'd seen it in his wide eyes the moment he knew beyond doubt that he was indeed pregnant. They both understood that the child put an irrevocable seal on their marriage. Wolfram was his forever and in a few short months, the first fruit of his long-nurtured plans would spring from his womb.

As he imagined and savored the look on Lady Celi's face as he presented her with her first grandchild, the heartbeat in the chest pinned against his own changed. Slow then fast, nothing at all for too many seconds, then a stuttering return that pulsed weaker than before.

Hanreid sat up and slapped the bruised face sharply. He got no response.

"Damn you," he cursed and pushed the hidden switch beside the headboard that summoned his sorcerer. "Don't you dare die on me; I'm not through with you!"

The brat paid him no heed. When he stopped breathing, Hanreid dragged him to the floor, shoved a pillow under his shoulders, and began forcing air into his lungs. Every few breaths he'd stop to compress Wolfram's chest to force his still heart to continue pumping blood through his veins.

Within seconds, the sorcerer arrived with his medical bag and dropped to his knees on the other side of the limp body.

"Keep going, My Lord," he ordered while rummaging through the bag's contents, mixing and measuring powders as he went.

Even busy keeping his husband alive, Hanreid kept an eye on the spell weaver. He'd arrived too quickly, too well prepared. He had been expecting this and hadn't told him.

"I need access to his mouth."

Hanreid moved back, panting from a different kind of effort, and watched his sorcerer tip the mixture passed Wolfram's lips.

Five seconds. Ten. Twenty. Only the other man's upraised hand stopped him from resuming his own efforts.

Thirty seconds.

And with a cry like a sob, life returned to his wolf cub. Eyes wide and unseeing, he thrashed around for a moment before going totally limp to lie there gasping like a half-drowned man.

The sorcerer shouted in his face. "Tell me your name!"

Wolfram blinked. Hanreid doubted he even knew where he was. The sorcerer slapped his cheek lightly to get his attention. "What is your name?"

"Wolf…ram." The drifting eyes fell on Hanreid and knew him. Tears welled up on the lashes and Wolfram turned his head aside. "Haven't you done enough?" He curled away from him into a fetal position with his arms crossed over his head. "Leave me alone. Please. Just go away. What more can you want from me?"

As he huddled there, Wolfram's breathing returned to normal. He sank into what looked like natural sleep. The sorcerer took his pulse and nodded confirmation of his guess.

"And my son?" he demanded even as the thin hand moved from Wolfram's throat to probe his lower abdomen.

"The child is unharmed."

Only then did Hanreid allow himself to feel relief. He rounded on his sorcerer, furious over what had nearly gone wrong. "What happened?"

"His heart stopped."

"I know that! I want to know why!"

"Perhaps his body has nothing to spare. This pregnancy isn't exactly standard."

Hanreid shook his head, "The others didn't just stop on me."

The sorcerer raised a finger, "Ah, but you lost interest in them once they were confirmed pregnant. Nor did you enjoy them with the intensity that you have pleasured yourself with your current husband. His body simply cannot bear all of the stressors put on it. On top of that, the method we used to ensure Lord Wolfram became pregnant was a last resort option because of the potential side effects."

All perfectly reasonable explanations, but he wasn't ready to let him off. "You knew this could happen and didn't say anything about the chance he might die on me. Explain yourself."

"I didn't know with any certainty how he would react to the introduction of a new drug to his system. I simply prepared for all eventualities. Keep in mind that this pregnancy shouldn't be. With potions and magic we have told his body to do what ought to be impossible. Every cell and fiber of his being knows this pregnancy is wrong and will fight it. We've achieved the balance we needed to get your son on him, but to maintain that balance until he delivers will require intense vigilance. Any shift in that balance threatens the baby's and your husband's lives."

Hearing the veiled warning, Hanreid carefully considered his words. He didn't like the conclusion he came to. "You're saying that anything that disrupts that balance will cause the kind of reaction that nearly killed Wolfram and my son a few minutes ago."

"Yes, My Lord." The hood moved ominously with his nod. "You will have to refrain from enjoying your husband physically until the baby is born or risk all your plans coming to naught."

He wanted to declare that unacceptable, but Hanreid was a practical man. He didn't like it but the reward that waited at the end of the year was more than worth the sacrifice.

Carefully, he lifted his wolf cub from the floor and transferred him to the bed. He found it surprisingly difficult to break contact, knowing he'd not be able to touch him in this or any other way for the next twelve months. He caressed the new bruises their last round had left before stepping back.

"Very well, I'll keep my hands to myself. See to it that the procurers resume providing suitable companions. They know my tastes by now."

He'd restrict himself to simply watching his wolf cub until his son was safely delivered and use others to satisfy his physical needs for the time being. He looked on his slumbering husband. Even knowing he was forbidden fruit, or perhaps because of it, the sight stirred him even more fiercely.

"Do you know yet how fortune has favored you, my wolf cub?" He wondered aloud as if Wolfram might hear him in his sleep. "Don't get used to it, my sweet. I won't deny myself your pleasures for long."

With that promise, he spun on his heel and left before his lust overcame his sense.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! Please review, your feedback has been my inspiration. Constructive criticism is welcome. _

_Now that he will soon have the child he's schemed for, Hanreid moves forward with his plans of conquest. Pregnant and desperate, Wolfram seeks help from the shadows in his dreams only to realize they have their own plans for him and his baby. Come back for __**Chapter 12: Home Again.**_


	12. Home Again

Summary: Yuuri's arrival and slap saved Wolfram from a secret arranged marriage to a despotic Mazoku noble. Lord von Hanreid has plotted and maneuvered to get this marriage for decades and he has no intention of giving up on his plans or his prize.

Rating: M

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Once again my thanks to all who reviewed and made this story a favorite and are following. Thanks so very much for our patience. I actually meant to post this chapter in July but it kept growing and growing. When I hit 10,000 words I decided to do some rewriting to end it earlier than planned and get it up sooner. Enjoy and review to let me know what you think._

_Warning: Suicidal thoughts in this chapter._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 12: Home Again**

_**The Next Months**_

The scent of roses filled his senses and Wolfram found himself wandering in his mother's garden. The incredible peace soothed him until he realized something was off. He looked more closely at his surroundings. Everything was pristinely perfect, not a speck of dust or pollen on the path. A riot of color filled his vision. He identified the different beds: Conrart Stands upon the Earth, Secret Gwendal, Beautiful Wolfram, and Celi's Red Sigh. All fragrant blossoms and yet he only smelled roses. He remembered that Celi didn't grow roses in her garden.

Logic deflated what he realized must be a dream and Wolfram woke up.

He blinked sleepily at a fluted blue-green porcelain vase filled with long-stemmed red roses. Moving only his eyes, Wolfram tracked the room. Everything looked somehow sharper and brighter than it ought to, as if curtains had been pulled aside to allow full sunlight into a dim space. He lay clean in fresh clothes between fresh linens and nothing hurt. A part of him knew he'd lost time again, but it didn't bother him.

A strange and wonderful calm numbed his emotions. It felt as if he and the world somehow hung balanced in the space between two seconds. Wolfram puzzled over that even as he luxuriated in it. It had been weeks since he hadn't awakened to….

His reality slammed down on him as his memory caught up with his waking body. Misery swept in like a storm. He couldn't stop the single sob that escaped him as Wolfram hesitantly touched his flat stomach.

He was pregnant.

Due to their rarity, Mazoku pregnancies normally meant a joyous time of celebration, surrounded by family and friends all doting on the happy couple and their coming child. He'd once imagined a future with such a time for him and his fiancé. He'd dreamed of the day Yuuri stood beside him to make the announcement, both of them proud and beaming; placing bets in the maids' multi-tiered pool covering everything from the baby's gender to the delivery date to the hair and eye color. He'd seen as if it were real the two of them cuddling with their children in the big bed in Yuuri's room while Greta read to her baby brother or sister.

Dreams turned to ashes now. Hanreid had cost him that too. He closed his eyes against their sudden burning. The choking grief tightening his chest made it hard to breathe.

Someone touched his back.

Wolfram screamed defiance, jerked away from the touch. The hand didn't pursue him.

The relief that surged through him when he realized that the sorcerer sat beside him and not his lecherous employer didn't help his racing heart or straining lungs. He tried to calm himself but his body betrayed him. His pulse sped on, faster and faster, feeding on his own growing fear.

Without a word, the other man crushed something in his hand and cupped his palm under his nose. Wolfram recognized the herbal remedy and breathed as deeply as his struggling body let him.

Gradually the sedative eased his panic attack, letting him breathe again and allowing his heart slow to a normal pace. Wolfram tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey him. To his chagrin, he needed the sorcerer's help.

The sorcerer's hooded head rocked in censure as he maneuvered his body into an upright position. "You must cease such extreme reactions." Wolfram heard the frown in his voice. "They harm you and thus the child."

Wolfram almost rolled his eyes. After months of maltreatment, what did he expect?

"Stop fighting your fate," the sorcerer told him as he brushed the remainder of crushed plants into the leather pouch in his lap. "You struggle to take back what you can never again have. The only measure of peace left for you is in accepting your place at your husband's side."

"Stop wasting breath trying to convince me. That is never going to happen," he promised both his guard and himself.

"Time will tell," the sorcerer countered with such confidence that Wolfram felt his own falter.

The sorcerer stood and fetched the breakfast tray. He placed it across Wolfram's blanketed lap and removed the cover.

He stared at the scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and biscuits drizzled with honey and warm butter. Not a drop of the vile porridge that had been his only breakfast fare since being brought here. His gaze travelled to the roses and back to his caretaker.

"They are gifts from the household staff upon learning of your blessed condition."

Wolfram snorted. "Blessed?"

The sorcerer went on, "Since you are on bed rest and unable to leave your rooms, they decided to at least give you a celebratory meal with their well wishes for your good health. You should eat it while it's hot."

The man was worse than a brooding grandmother about making sure he ate. Wolfram stared at the tempting plate.

"It is untainted on your lord husband's command, a reward of sorts for giving him what he has long sought. You've made him quite happy. Do nothing to spoil his mood."

That specter raised, Wolfram shook his head. "I'll wait. If I eat now I'll only be more miserable once he's done with me."

After a "visit" from his violator, nausea always ravaged him. But the spells and drugs denied him the relief of vomiting. His gut cramped painfully as it tried to follow reflex, adding another dimension to his torment.

"Pay closer attention to what I say to you, young lord. You are on bed rest until the baby is born. No strenuous activity of _any_ kind is allowed. Your fit last night instilled caution in your husband. To ensure a safe delivery, he is willing to refrain from indulging his pleasures with you while you are carrying."

Wolfram gaped, not sure he'd heard right. Hanreid was going to leave him alone? It had to be another lie. He remembered too well Hanreid's words as he forced him again. His rapist wasn't going to stop.

"I have made it clear to your husband that intercourse is out of the question until after his heir is born."

Wolfram's brow went up and the other man snorted derisively.

"Don't think to find an ally in me, young lord. My task is to see that you give birth to a healthy son for your husband. That is my only motivation. Lord von Hanreid will enter these rooms only in my company so you need not fear he will break his word."

Oh, to be free of his touch, the feel of him, the smell of him that lingered no matter how long or hard he scrubbed his skin. An end to the near-paralyzing fear every time the handle on the door turned.

No!

Wolfram didn't dare believe him. His mental and spiritual defenses were worn ragged by the constant physical and emotional abuse. If he let his guard down now, Hanreid's next assault might destroy them, and him.

Shooting a cynical glare at the hooded man, he set to eating his breakfast.

As always, the sorcerer waited until he finished eating to take the tray and leave him alone in his prison. Once he was sure he wasn't coming back, Wolfram flung the covers aside and got up.

The room immediately spun off to the right and only a desperate grab at the bedpost kept him on his feet. When the vertigo passed, Wolfram took stock of himself.

The sorcerer had dressed him in a sleeveless close-fitting tunic with a mandarin collar that plunged to expose him to his navel. It reached the floor with slits on either side that came up to his hip joints. Made of a fine pale blue cloth, it shifted with every move to expose an indecent amount of skin.

That only confirmed the fallacy of the sorcerer's assurances of safety. The fact they stilled dressed him like a whore proved the lie. One look and Hanreid would be all over him.

Sick at heart because a part of him had wanted to believe, Wolfram tugged a sheet off the bed and wrapped himself in it for modesty, staggered the few paces to one of the chairs by the fireplace, and sat facing the door to gather his reserves for the coming attack.

Hours passed. The sorcerer came and went with this drugged broth lunch. More time passed. Wolfram intended to maintain his vigil until Hanreid came for him, but staying alert so long drained his strength and, as the room darkened with sunset, his head began to droop only to snap up in panic. His eyelids grew heavy, sinking to half mast.

The thought of waking to that leering face kept him from surrendering to sleep. He got up to pace but exhaustion made his so unsteady he feared a fall that might add to his injuries, forcing him to sit again.

Eventually he lost the battle. Despite his quailing inner protests, his head fell back and his eyes closed and stayed that way.

The familiar sensations of muscled arms sliding under his shoulders and knees him woke him in the heart of the night. Hanreid smiled into his terror as he lifted him up and carried him to the bed by candlelight.

Heart pounding, Wolfram bit down on his lip and focused on suppressing the instinct to fight. No matter when he began to resist, his efforts were fruitless thanks to the spells surrounding him. But at least if he waited until Hanreid was thoroughly involved he sometimes got a good strike in before they left him helpless.

Hanreid settled him on the mattress and caught him by a wrist to keep him from rolling out of reach. Wolfram shrank back when he brought his face closer, but the anticipated kiss didn't happen. Hanreid only stared. Need vibrated in his candlelit silhouette. He waited until Wolfram's fear of what was about to happen set him shivering. Only then did he whisper to him.

"I've been told you will be too frail for my full attentions until my son is born." He peered at his exposed flat belly. Wolfram strained uselessly against his grip as he pressed his hot hand possessively atop it, caressing him. "I can wait until you birth him." The gaze lifted and Wolfram shuddered at what he saw there. "You will then resume your spousal duties to me. Meanwhile, I'll have a taste to last me."

And Hanreid lurched forward to kiss him with suffocating intensity. The hand on his stomach made a slow creep lower down. Wolfram tried to endure unmoving but soon used up the oxygen in his lungs and couldn't pull enough air past Hanreid's tongue and the weight on his chest to replace it. He pushed desperately at whatever his free hand reached.

To his relief, Hanreid did break away to let him breathe, to hang over him and savor his terror as he gasped for air and squirmed under the drifting fingers.

"Don't sleep in the chair again. It's not good for my son."

And with that Hanreid grabbed the covers and pulled them over him. One handed, he tucked Wolfram in like a child, released him, and left the room.

Wolfram watched the door close behind him in dumbfounded relief. His shivers morphed into a full-blown fit of trembling that set his teeth chattering as his body burned off the unused adrenalin rush triggered by the last minutes. He'd seen and recognized the look in those eyes. Hanreid had wanted to rut him, savage him, and yet he walked away.

Maybe the sorcerer was telling the truth. Or maybe this was another twisted game. Either way, it looked like he was safe, at least for this night.

Curling on his side under the blankets, Wolfram didn't have long to wait for thwarted sleep to rise up to claim him again. And for the first time since his kidnapping, fear of what he must wake to didn't shadow him.

-o0O0o-

The next morning a fever set in hard and fast that left him hot and shivering and refused to let go. Not even the suppressing drugs kept him from throwing up everything he tried to eat. He'd never felt so miserably sick in his life, not even that one summer he'd been caught on a small sailboat with his mother and one of her endless suitors in a sudden storm. Standing more than a few seconds set him reeling. On the worst days after what the magic wielder blithely called "the incident," Wolfram needed his help to do everything, even relieve himself, to his utter humiliation.

He overheard the sorcerer explain to Hanreid that the hormonal changes were interacting adversely with the drugs in his system but that in time his body would find a new balance. Not that the insight did Wolfram any good.

His physical weakness, the draining fever, and the need to escape in the only way he had made sleep irresistibly attractive. Wolfram slumbered much of each day away. If this development worried his captors, Wolfram was too ill to care. Sleep brought the only break in his misery. His debilitating illness didn't touch him in his dreams.

The special ones rose up to meet him as soon as his head hit the pillow. He found himself in the shadow world where the sad woman introduced him to new faces and told their stories. Each child spoke the familiar refrain, "Remember me." As soon as they completed the ritual, small hands pulled him into the darkness to play whatever game had caught their fancy – soldiers, hide and seek, tag, bluff. He forgot his situation for a time and joined in wholeheartedly, almost the child the war hadn't allowed him to be.

But the best dreams were of Yuuri. Sometimes they were replays of their happier times together. Others were of Yuuri's world where he watched his daily life as if it were a program on that television device. On rare occasions, he'd hear his voice calling his name and Wolfram would shout out until the other boy found him.

The moment he laid eyes on him, Yuuri took off running, his legs pumping for all they were worth with his face split by a beautiful smile, to reach him. Black-clad arms wrapped around him and held on as if he never wanted to let go.

"Here you are! Where have you been? I've been so worried!"

And every time, Wolfram clung to him with equal fervor and basked in the closeness he knew on some level even in sleep was never going to be theirs. All this was his mind's attempt to counter what was happening to him outside of this place, a temporary respite. Inevitable tears came with that realization and Yuuri thumbed them gently away.

"Don't cry. I'm here. I'll always be here." The Maoh's timbre throbbed under the black-haired boy's normal light voice, making the promise somehow more real at least while the dream lasted. Wolfram knew he must eventually wake to his ugly reality.

This was all he had, could ever have, so he embraced it fully while he walked in it.

Each dream had slightly different details but the basics remained the same. Together they'd find a quiet place – under a huge sweeping willow tree, a secluded nook in a library – and sit and talk until dawning light began to brighten the dreamscape, washing everything around them out the way water poured over a drying watercolor drained away a painting's brilliant colors. Yuuri faded last and all his clinging didn't halt the process. He parted with a smiling promise to see him soon as he too washed away.

They only ever spoke of simple things, normal things. Once, desperate for a sympathetic ear, Wolfram tried to tell Yuuri about Hanreid and describe what he was suffering. But he'd barely begun speaking when the dream world shuddered and he found himself sitting alone in a colder, slimy darkness that pressed in on him to seep through his skin like a corruption. He couldn't push it back or rub it off though he tried with everything he had until he woke trashing and gasping in his bed.

Lesson learned – never bring reality into his dreams.

While he found some solace in sleep, his greatest relief actually came in his waking life: Hanreid ceased his carnal visits. Perhaps his near death – and the collapse of his centuries-long plans of conquest and vengeance that would have resulted – had forced restraint on Hanreid. He took on a creepier behavior to replace them.

Wolfram would wake in the night from fevered dreams to find Hanreid in the doorway to his rooms staring at him with unblinking eyes in utter silence as if waiting for him to notice him. He'd stand there for long minutes waiting for something. Wolfram had no idea what, but whatever it was, he must have gotten it because he'd eventually smile ever so softly and walk away into the darkened halls.

He came in daylight only during the sorcerer's visits to attempt to feed him or treat his sickness. He'd huddle out of earshot with the robed man for his latest diagnosis before parting with a final penetrating stare that Wolfram didn't dare to interpret.

Wolfram did his best to monitor his condition himself when his health allowed him to during the long weeks of his illness. With guilt-tinged relief, he'd sensed no more changes to indicate that the pregnancy progressed. A desperate part of him hoped that meant his system had been too stressed to support another life and he'd miscarried. The whispered consultations between Hanreid and the sorcerer, the solicitous care heaped upon him, made him think that they feared and sought to prevent the same. Better that than to give Hanreid what he needed.

Gradually the persistent fever, violent nausea, and vertigo eased and at last came to an end. Nearly three months from the day the sorcerer confirmed conception, he announced that he was finally in recovery. Wolfram was as relieved as his captors when he was able to eat again and walk unaided. It didn't take long for his body to start regaining the weight and strength his sickness had cost him. And with no signs to the contrary, he still hoped that he had miscarried.

That hope died in the middle of the darkest night of his captivity.

Wolfram woke to an awareness that something had changed. He lay in the cave he'd had made of his blankets while he slept. Worried that he might be suffering a recurrence of the fever, he sent his healer's senses questing through his body. He found no traces of a temperature or infection of any kind. In fact, his recovery was in rapid progress, but the sense that something was wrong remained. So what…?

No. Nonononono.

Gingerly, he tightened his focus and looked further, deeper. There. So infinitesimal he only spotted the changes because he was looking for them. His body had resumed preparing to nurture and deliver a new life into the world.

'Why does it fight so hard to live? It shouldn't even BE!'

Wolfram remembered the dream he'd had the night Hanreid impregnated him. This child would be the cause of Yuuri's death, Hanreid's key to the throne of Shin Makoku. He couldn't let that happen. Somehow he had to stop Hanreid, but how? Trapped by spells, cut off from his fire, he had no options.

Save one.

Every healer learned how to recognize and mercifully end a pregnancy where the fertilized egg implanted outside of the vagina, dooming the fetus and the bearer if nothing was done. Everything in Wolfram quailed from the thought of deliberately ending a healthy life. Mazoku children were so rare it was drummed into every healer apprentice that the procedure must be of last resort, when there was no possibility of saving the baby.

He didn't want to take an innocent life. But Yuuri was innocent too. The people of Shin Makoku didn't deserve the fate Hanreid planned for them. If he did nothing, he truly would be a traitor to his king and people. This was his only choice.

He realized that after punishing him, Hanreid would start all over again. But with just a small adjustment to the procedure, he'd also deprive Hanreid of the ability to make a second attempt. One by one he summoned the faces of his loved ones, lingering longest on Greta and Yuuri, and bid them farewell.

"Forgive me."

Wolfram summoned the necessary majutsu.

Sleep rose up in a deliberate swallowing wave that bore him down before Wolfram marshaled the will to fight it. He blinked and found himself in the dream haven, his strange benefactor waiting. He saw and heard no sign of the children.

"I sent them elsewhere, to pleasanter dreams than this." No trace of kindness warmed her voice or eyes this time. "Is your will so weak that you'd break your word so easily? More than one life depends on your strength."

The hint of disdain in her voice tweaked his pride. The reminder of the stakes stiffened his spine. "You think I don't know that? They've taken my strength from me. I have no way to defend myself or fight back. If I'm right about what Hanreid wants this child for I don't have a choice."

The woman of the dream shadows sat on a marble bench in the moonlit garden that rose up around them. "What Hanreid wants is a child in the line for the throne of Shin Makoku raised by and subservient to him. If you die and take this child with you, another waits who can give him the baby he needs though not for some years. But we both know Gregor von Hanreid is a man of deliberate patience."

Wolfram frowned, confused. "What are you talking about? There isn't … you can't mean Greta. She's just a child!"

"She will be a woman in less than twenty years. A princess of Zorashia by blood ties and a princess of Shin Makoku by ties of the heart, any child Hanreid can get off her will be an heir to two kingdoms. He will not need magic or potions to make her womb accept his seed. Once he no longer has you, how long do you suppose it will take Hanreid to see the advantages of being regent to a short-lived, half-blood heir?"

Sick to his core, Wolfram stumbled over to sit beside her on the bench and rake shaking fingers through his hair. Only he stood between Hanreid and his daughter. But if he lived, Hanreid would sooner or later have another innocent to corrupt for his evil plots.

"God, what am I going to do?"

Delicate fingers circled his own and gently pulled his hands down.

"Endure," the woman told him as she peered into his face, "and I promise you Hanreid will fall."

"By my hand?" Oh how he wanted to be the one.

"No."

"Will I at least be there to see it?"

"If you so choose."

Wolfram saw truth in her gaze. He nodded jerkily, hating how his spirit shrank from the thought of what his choice must bring down on him. The heroes in the histories he read in his youth faced equally hard choices without faltering.

The dream world began to fade out around him. The woman leaned in to kiss his forehead. Her whispered, "Cherish the life within you," followed him into the waking world.

He blinked in the darkness of his blanket cave. His hands still glowing green hovered over his midsection. It was as if only a second had passed. Wolfram stared miserably at his flat stomach. Cherish it. How in the world did she expect him to…?

A sensation like winging butterflies low in his abdomen froze his thoughts. It vanished and after a few seconds, he decided it must have been nerves. Then it happened again, a gentle yet persistent sensation of movement inside him. His hovering fingers began to tremble in the verdant light of healer's magic as he remembered one of Lady Julia's lessons.

He and Gisela sat at a long table in the castle library piled with books. Julia stood on the opposite side.

"In humans, the cessation of menses is usually the first indication of pregnancy. With Mazoku, unless circumstances bring the bearer to a healer, the first sign is fetal movement, often described as a fluttering sensation here." She placed her hand gently over her lower abdomen. "It is called the quickening in both cultures and is often the moment when a pregnancy becomes real for the parents. Marisa, you may come in."

A young Demon woman entered, her cheeks flushed and a tiny smile on her face. Wolfram recognized her. She had been among the women and children bidding farewell to the most recent unit to head out for the front. Julia unerringly reached out to take her hand and lead her over to her students.

"Place your hand as I showed you and extend your healing senses."

Wolfram had reached out as instructed and felt his eyes widen in wonder. Life stirred beneath his fingers, precious and wanted and wonderful. He'd smiled up into the happy woman's face and shared her joy. Thankfully her husband was one of the soldiers to return to his family.

Blinking his way out of the memory, Wolfram moved his hands to rest atop his own lower stomach just below his navel. He changed the purpose of his focus and recognized what he felt within him: the quickening, the fetus inside him trying out its developing arms and legs.

Numbly, he let his healer's magic fade back. Wolfram realized, to his amazement, that it didn't matter that the baby was unnatural. The brutality of how it was conceived made no difference. He didn't hate it. Lady Julia had been right. Feeling the quickening changed everything for him. His pregnancy wasn't just a fact now, it was a child. His child.

'You're _mine_, not his. I won't let him hurt you.'

A fine promise that he couldn't keep while he remained trapped under Hanreid's thumb. Enduring protected Greta, but it wouldn't save this new little one. If all he did was endure, he'd be giving Hanreid his puppet king.

'I'll find a way, no matter what.'

Wolfram curled protectively around his baby – a warm sensation filled his chest at the thought – under the blankets and began working out his strategy. Hanreid may have gotten the pregnancy he wanted but he also made his first mistake by giving him something more than himself to fight for.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid stood in the secret alcove that let him spy on his husband. An unnamed whore lay used and spent in his bed, but he'd gotten no satisfaction from their rutting. So he'd risen and come to watch his wolf cub. Of late he spent much of his days and nights watching him. At the moment, Wolfram read by candlelight sitting up in his bed, wrapped in a heavy robe and a woolen shawl. At six months, his pregnant state made itself known in the delicate roundness beneath his nightshirt.

Wolfram ranted over his condition when he regained his strength. The sorcerer cleaned up quite of bit of broken glass after his several fits. But the days and the pregnancy progressed, and his wolf cub eventually stopped throwing things as he came to accept it did no good. A period of quiet misery followed that made Hanreid want to descend on his blond bride and give him something to be miserable about.

He maintained his control though and over the ensuing months, Hanreid witnessed Wolfram's resentment of the baby fade before the slow development of a bearer's love. When he was alone and as far as he knew unwatched, Wolfram ran his hands in comforting circles on his belly, humming soft lullabies to his son. His beautiful face took on a sweet expression every once in a while and Hanreid knew the baby had moved.

Oddly enough, while his past mates had repelled him in their gravid states, Wolfram hadn't lost his appeal for him. Once he recovered from the illness that had been so worrisome the first months, his husband's beauty and grace returned full force. He no longer dressed from the wardrobe Hanreid had chosen for him. His sorcerer had strongly suggested they provide him with more modest, warmer garb for the next year. Wolfram had displayed the same susceptibility to cold that his last spouse, a woman he never thought about any more, had all through her pregnancy. She'd been pretty enough, but offered no competition to his blond princeling.

Since his recovery, Wolfram had gone around modestly dressed with no tempting glimpses of thigh or ankle. It made no difference. Hanreid still ached to have that sweet body again.

Another months and he'd have his wolf cub in a pale blue negligee and writhing under him again.

Wolfram yawned – he was always tired these days, despite all the sorcerer's dedicated care – set aside the book and curled up under the covers to peacefully drift into sleep.

Hanreid frowned as he remembered how not so long ago Wolfram would lie awake in vigil until exhaustion overwhelmed his resolve against one of his nightly visits, starting at every sound or movement. His husband had finally started to learn to fear him when Hanreid had been forced to leave him alone. He had to wonder if Wolfram had forgotten those lessons during this reprieve. Perhaps another short visit, a touch to that pert chin that never failed to drain the color from his cheeks. Just to remind his lover of his place.

Yes, a quick visit to reinforce those lessons was just what the situation called for. He spun on his heel and headed for the secret entrance to his lover's suite. The wall parted soundlessly and his bare feet carried him across the thick rug to the bedside. Already deep in slumber, Wolfram didn't move when he reached down to peel back first the quilt, then each layer of blanket until he exposed the slight form curled on his side unaware of his danger.

Oh so carefully, Hanreid took hold of the hem of the white cotton nightshirt and raised it to expose pale legs.

"Just a look," he whispered even as the fingers of his other hand clenched and unclenched. They itched to touch and fondle his sleeping husband. His hand lifted as if it had a mind of its own and reached out. "I'll do no worse than tease him."

He lied and he knew it. Once he touched Wolfram, he'd have to do more – a caress or a kiss – and he wouldn't be able to stop. Already his libido was rising to do battle with his logical mind. He called up the memory of his sorcerer's warning when he caught him at the bedside watching Wolfram sleep not long after he declared him free of the fever.

"Lord von Hanreid, you have tasked me to ensure the birth of Lord Wolfram's child by you. I can make no guarantees if you persist in acting against my advice. Any stress threatens the careful balance of spell and potion necessary to maintain this pregnancy and keep him from using his fire to escape your control. Push him too far and you will lose the child, perhaps even your husband."

He'd promised again to behave himself.

Frustrated, Hanreid silently cursed his lack of self control. He simply hadn't counted on the allure Wolfram held for him. Nothing else satisfied him anymore. Wolfram drew him like a flame called to a moth. Not just his beauty, but that fiery spirit and the satisfaction that filled him each time he forced it to succumb to his will. He wanted to feel that again on a primal level. Just a taste, a part of him breathed into his warring thoughts. What's the harm?

Oh, nothing much, just the loss of a kingdom.

Hanreid warred for a long minute with himself until he won the battle. He slowly pulled his hand back and let the nightshirt drop back into place.

Only then did he see that Wolfram lay awake, watching him with dread flashing with the candlelight in wide eyes. Hanreid smiled gently.

"Six more months," he whispered the quiet promise. "Six more months."

He left his reluctant lover to cower under the weight of anticipation while he returned to his bed and his whore and his unsatisfied hunger.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram struggled to master his rampant heartbeat. Fear still half strangled him twenty minutes after Hanreid's departure. He'd wakened cold and shivering to find Hanreid above him with all his attention locked on his exposed legs, one hand barely an inch from touching him. He'd remained still, trying not to breathe for fear that all Hanreid needed was the trigger of any sign of movement on his part to do what he obviously wanted to do. His parting words froze Wolfram's blood.

Six months until the birth of his child. It had seemed like forever until that whisper out of the darkness changed his perspective. From the look in those cold eyes that resolve to wait wouldn't survive to term. Soon or late, Hanreid was going to give in to his lust. He had considered this might be a side effect of his slow, careful game of convincing Hanreid and his sorcerer of his slow breakdown but had hoped that concern for the baby's well being would keep him safe.

A chair now blocked his door and would every night from that day forward. No real deterrent for Hanreid, but he'd have to make enough noise breaking in to wake him before he did anything. Wolfram planned to use that respite to scream loud and long enough to bring the sorcerer running. The hooded man's calm indifferent voice often reached his master when nothing else did. As much as he hated him, the sorcerer was his best and only defense.

Fortunately, he never needed his alarm system. Hanreid ceased his nocturnal voyeurism completely and limited himself to visits accompanied by the sorcerer. Over time, even those grew less and less. Wolfram guessed, based on the growing heat in his stare in those first weeks, that the man was removing himself from temptation, something he had absolutely no problem with.

Meanwhile the dreams continued. Without the constant threat of assault, the rest and healing he found there carried over into the waking world and stayed. He grew stronger and his baby along with him.

The sorcerer insisted on referring to the baby as a boy or Hanreid's son. No healer could tell the gender with any certainty until the last month or so, but Wolfram somehow _knew_ he carried a girl. The woman and the children in his dreams agreed with him. The little ones spilled questions, shyly touched, playfully - sometimes vigorously – argued over the perfect name. They took on the role Wolfram's own family should have had, and came to mean nearly as much to him. His second family though was much larger. Each night the sad woman introduced him to another child, and each asked him "Remember me."

A day came when Wolfram realized that he had too many names and faces in his head to reliably keep his promise. He needed more than his memory to keep track of them. Getting what he needed out of his caretaker would take some doing. He conceived a plan and acted on it the next time his keeper came to feed him.

That morning when the sorcerer brought him his tainted porridge, Wolfram turned away, "Take it back, I'm not hungry."

The sorcerer continued to set up the tray, "Force yourself. The child needs nourishment."

"Can you at least add strawberries? It's so bland!"

"The meals I bring you are perfectly balanced to sustain both you and your pregnancy. You need nothing else."

"I can use some exercise, maybe a walk in the garden?"

"You cannot leave this room. You're on bed rest, remember? "

"What's the harm? Fresh air is good for the baby."

"Open a window."

"No! I'm sick of this room, I'm sick of this wretched food you force on me!" Wolfram crossed his arms and half-heartedly slumped back against the pillows.

"This room was designed specifically for you. I am here to meet all your needs. You want for nothing."

"Nothing I chose! I never wanted any of this! You and that monster forced it on me!"

The unflappable man set the tray across his lap. "Your wants were never a consideration. As for leaving this room, you know the conditions. And I'm certain that on that day, your husband will have a different destination in mind with a much more interesting idea of exercise."

Just the thought of Hanreid on top of him again sent nausea surging through his gut. The sorcerer deftly moved the tray and replaced it with a basin kept on the bedside table. When his stomach stopped heaving, Wolfram took the cloth the sorcerer handed to him and wiped his mouth and chin.

"You did that deliberately."

He replied, "As you deliberately tried to get a rise out of me. Why?"

"I'm bored," he told him, putting a touch of desperation in his voice. "I need something to occupy my mind before it rots."

"I'll bring you a book." The hooded man took away the basin and pushed the breakfast tray back into place. "Eat."

Wolfram picked up the spoon but didn't touch his food. "I'm a soldier. I'm used to being active. Before you ruined my life, I rode patrol, trained my men, drilled with swordmasters to improve my skills. I need something to do."

"And what do you suggest?" came the sarcastic question. "Your condition allows nothing equivalent to that."

"I'm an artist. Can you get canvas, paints, and brushes?"

"And have the stench of bear bee paint filling the entire manor?"

"I'd settle for paper and pencils" he hurriedly added to cut off the sorcerer's imminent refusal. "Even drawing will give my hands and mind something to do."

"Other than plotting impossible escape from a walled garden?"

Wolfram tensed and averted his eyes as if he'd been caught out. "Why would I do that? How far could I get like this?" He rubbed his hand over the growing swell of his stomach. "Besides, even if I escaped, there's no place for me to escape to. Your master has seen to that. I've resigned myself to my fate."

He actually heard humor in his captor's voice when he replied, "If that were true you'd be able to walk through that door on your own. Behave yourself and perhaps I'll see what I can manage."

At least he didn't say no.

A day passed, then a week, then more weeks. What started out as a ploy to get the materials he needed spiraled into a true problem. With nothing to do, Wolfram had only his thoughts for company. His mind kept conjuring memories of Hanreid, replaying attacks in a useless attempt to find some way he could have fought back or escaped. To distract himself, he read the boring tomes the sorcerer brought him, he recited the children's names and stories in his head but their tales were so sad, they pulled him toward depression if he did it too long. He had the same problem when daydreaming about home only for the opposite reasons. So he tried not to think at all. His waking behavior alternated between manic pacing as if trying to escape his own mind and near catatonia trapped in a flashback.

The sorcerer noted his deteriorating state but said nothing. One afternoon Wolfram woke from a nap to find a fistful of pencils, pads of sketch paper held together with coiled wire, and other art supplies on his bedside table. A colorful burst of ribbon bound them in a neat stack. He stared then turned on his captor.

"These came from Yuuri's world. How did you get them?"

"That half-breed brother of yours had them in his room. Why expend the effort to search for such things when they were right there?" The sorcerer served up a bowl of broth and brought it to him. "I neither know nor care how he got them."

Conrart must have brought them back with him when he returned from his first journey to that other world. Perhaps he'd planned to gift them to him some day in the future, hoping even then that their relationship must eventually heal.

Oh, Little Big Brother, I'm so sorry. Tears burned in his eyes as he touched the gift and thought of all the wasted years he now had no chance to make up for. To have this proof, to know Conrart had never given up on him despite all he'd said and done meant more now than he had words to say.

"If I knew your name I'd thank you properly."

"Sorcerer serves well enough. No man or woman living knows my name."

Wolfram's head tipped to the side as he considered his words. He'd never heard the sorcerer referred to by name, never seen him without his hood. A long-ago lesson in combative magic mentioned that certain obscure magical disciplines linked power to names. To know a person's name gave the wielder power over that person. By keeping his face and name secret, the sorcerer had the perfect defense against attack by his fellow spellcasters.

"I prefer to keep it that way."

Taking the hint, Wolfram simply said, "Thank you."

From that day forward, Wolfram spent his time drawing. He filled the paper with studies of his family. Whenever homesickness grew unbearable, he'd flip through the sketchbook to remind himself of what waited for him when he found a way to escape. He also drew collages of the faces of the children in his dreams, filling the borders of those pages with snippets of their stories in neat cursive. He scattered these among the portraits of his brothers, mother, Yuuri, and Greta. Wolfram trusted the instinct that told him not to let Hanreid or the sorcerer know about them. If either man came upon him drawing, he'd flip to one of those pages.

Not that it mattered. Hanreid no longer stalked him and the sorcerer showed no interest in what he drew. Anything that didn't adversely affect his pregnancy, he pretty much ignored. He only came to feed him and check the baby's development. He came at the same times every day so Wolfram simply put the sketch pad away before he arrived.

Five more months went by without much else changing except that his belly grew along with his sense of impending disaster.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid tapped the nose of one of the elaborately carved dragon supports as he leaned against the stone mantle of the library fireplace while he waited. He'd lit the wood in the hearth to fight the chill in the air despite spring being well underway. Odd he didn't remember it being so cool from before, but then he hadn't come into the library before. He and the sorcerer had gone straight to his spellcasting room after returning from the journey to Blood Pledge Castle without his long-awaited bride.

So he must wait in the one place he was sure not to encounter himself until the earlier Hanreid and sorcerer were safely locked away preparing the necessary spells to fetch his wolf cub.

That had been the hardest part of the last year, keeping the secret that two of him were in residence from his servants. His earlier self never fraternized with the help so he didn't expect he'd accidentally learn too much. He'd trained each one of the servants to keep their heads down so they wouldn't voluntarily speak even to politely ask after his ailing wife. None had the fortitude to question or disobey him. Even cowed as they were, seeing him leave a room by one door and within seconds enter again by another would override the fear he'd instilled in them. If any escaped, they'd talk and raise alarms.

Worse potential consequences existed. The sorcerer's vivid description of the what might happen if he managed to meet himself in a hallway had been all he needed to spend hours each night without complaint in one of the secret passages watching the next day's events through a spell gate so he'd know where and when not to be. The sorcerer had it easy. No one saw him if he didn't want to be seen, not even his earlier self apparently.

Today that need for vigilance ended. Very soon now, his carriage would pull into the courtyard. He and the sorcerer would emerge to sequester themselves in the sorcerer's rooms to prepare to steal away into the past with his reluctant lover in tow. From the moment that door closed on them, he was free to move as he pleased, once more in step with the flow of time.

The invitations to the festivities celebrating Yuuri Heika's return would be winging in all directions of the compass by now. In two days, Hanreid would appear in the Maoh's private suite and take his prize right out from under their noses. Two days after that – probably less because they'd push the horses in a wasted attempt to reach their precious youngest prince before he sullied him – a small army would arrive at his door to see with their own eyes just how late to the game they'd come.

Hanreid again summoned the vision that he'd been indulging since the day the sorcerer had confirmed Wolfram's pregnancy. The looks on the faces of von Voltaire and Celi, who would no doubt insist on coming to her baby's rescue again, as they beheld his wolf cub huge with his son; the shock draining color from their faces as they realized that Wolfram was forever lost to them.

His finger stopped tapping as a new dimension to his vengeance blossomed in his mind's eye: a small change to enhance the flaunting of his triumph in the faces of his enemies and make his eventual transition to the throne smoother. He'd worked out the finer details in his mind by the time his sorcerer slipped into the room.

"The carriage has arrived," he announced as he quietly closed the door. "Our other selves will soon be in my workroom with orders not to be disturbed. When we return to the main entry, no one will be close enough to notice that we did not emerge from the lower levels."

"Good, because there's been a change of plans."

"My Lord?"

He almost laughed out loud at the shocked disbelief in the question. "I have decided not to wait for von Voltaire to come here. Arrange for an escort. We will go to him. I see no reason to delay taking up residence in my new home."

The sorcerer said nothing and Hanreid waited for him to examine how this shift must affect the other facets of his plans. He occasionally saw something Hanreid missed, which allowed for useful refinements.

He raised the first. "They will have access to Shinou's temple and the resources there to hunt for a way to break your marriage."

"They can try. All the resources in the world won't help them. The child makes our tribute bond legal. I am the dominant and I will never free him. Is there anything else?"

"This new strategy requires removing your husband from his room. The suppressing spells will lose efficacy without constant exposure."

"How long before they wear off?"

The hood tipped slightly as the other man ran calculations in his head. "A week, perhaps a day less."

Hanreid shrugged that off. "It doesn't really matter. While I hold the safety of his precious human daughter over his head, Wolfram will do as he is told. Besides that, fear of me is rooted so deep in my wolf cub that I doubt he _can_ defy me. On the outside chance he manages to revive his spirit, I will take great pleasure in breaking it for him again."

He thought for the space of a deep breath that the sorcerer would continue with his objections. Instead, he bowed at the waist.

"As you command, My Lord. I shall see to our transportation and a suitable escort."

Alone again in the chilly library, Hanreid pulled a chair closer to the hearth and sat to wait out the preparations. It had been far too long since he'd been in the presence of his wolf cub. The long journey in the close confines of the carriage was going to be…entertaining.

-o0O0o-

Stretched out on his bed, Wolfram held the sketch pad out at arm's length and nodded, pleased with the results. He resumed work on the shading. Lily, the saddest of the children in his dream world, refused to smile. It made him wonder what had been done to her, for no child naturally went without laughter. He'd spent the last hour imagining her laughing and smiling and attempting to capture it on paper. It was coming along nicely. Engrossed in getting her eyes just right, he didn't notice the rise of sleep until it claimed him. Pad and pencil slipped from his fingers and his head rolled back.

He emerged in the dream realm with practiced ease and a little worried. Before, this only happened in dire circumstances. But this time there was no infusion of life energy awaiting him. Instead, the younger children greeted him with unusual enthusiasm. He found himself the laughing center of a mob hopping up and down with excitement.

"Make a dragon!"

"No, a lion!"

"I want to see an explosion! A BIG one!"

"What's so fun about that, Kurt?"

Smiling, Wolfram held up his hands and made settling gestures. "A little decorum, please." When the children calmed down, though a few still danced from foot to foot, he bent as close as his advancing pregnancy allowed and asked, "Now, what's this all about?"

"I told them that you were _the_ Wolfram who wields fire," his hostess explained as she appeared out of the darkness. "Some of the children remembered certain tales of your training exploits."

Wolfram felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He had done some pretty outrageous things when he'd first begun learning to wield his element, especially the more intricate castings. They'd become examples to new trainees of what not to do. Some had been too spectacular to escape the rumor mill and had grown to near mythic proportions in the retelling.

He straightened, palm pressed to the small of his back. "Well, don't believe everything you hear, little ones. What I can do has been blocked. Hanreid has made sure I can't call fire."

"In the waking world only," the sad woman assured him. "Here only imagination limits you. Simply call before your mind's eye what you wish to create."

Wolfram nodded and closed his eyes. He envisioned a fiery lion, slightly bigger than life, mane and tail tuft rich with flames of dark gold and orange, body of paler yellow fire.

Cooing sounds of admiration caused him to open his eyes to see what he'd created.

The crackling sound of burning wood drifted to his ears with the big cat's every move. Black eyes streaked with glowing veins like low-burning embers met his gaze and the flame lion quietly strode to him with majestic grace. Wolfram held out his hand and the beast nuzzled his palm in greet. It radiated no heat at all. The massive head rubbed gently against his stomach.

Eager children crowded close again to pet it. Even Lily who all this time had always kept to the edges, never participating unless bullied into it by her peers, came cautiously forward to stretch out a hand and touch with a tentative finger. When it didn't burn a tiny smile broke her mask of misery.

Wolfram barely formed the thought and the huge beast took on the characteristics of an overly energetic kitten demanding play time. At that she actually smiled. Soon laughter and deep rumbling purrs that vibrated through his chest filled their space, making is somehow lighter though the light itself hadn't changed. They soon left him and the woman behind to romp with their new friend in the darkness beyond.

A hand on his arm guided him to the waiting sofa and its pile of cushions and helped Wolfram ease himself into its embrace before sitting beside him to watch their play.

"It's good to see them, especially poor Lily, being children again. You heal them as much as they heal you."

"Then I'll be sure to conjure another tiger when I come back."

She patted his knee. "No need. This one is now part of our world. It will serve good purpose here. You have done better than you know."

They watched the gamboling in silence until it drifted so far into the dark that all they could make out was the faint glow of the lion's mane and even that faded. Just how far did the darkness go?

"I know everyone's story but yours. Will you not tell me? I can at least add that to your portrait."

"Portrait?"

"I've done studies of everyone to help me remember. When I wake up, I'll be adding a new drawing of Lily. I can't wait to capture her smile, it's so beautiful."

His companion sat very still with her head tilted to the side as if listening for a sound beyond his hearing.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. It is better."

Wolfram gave a nervous laugh, "Sometimes I don't understand you."

She turned his way and Wolfram glimpsed a dark shadow melting away in her eyes as they settled on his stomach.

"How much longer?"

"The sorcerer says another month or so, but she feels farther along to me. I need a way to protect her from Hanreid once she's born. Please, you've done so much for me, can you help my baby?"

The woman gently stroked his stomach with the tips of her fingers.

"Sweet miracle," his companion whispered to his belly. "Long-awaited Child of Worlds and Time, perhaps you sense our need."

Wolfram pulled away from her in sudden wariness. "What do you mean your need?"

"There is no time. This is the last dream - Time is coming into its own."

"You're not making sense!" For the first time since finding his dream refuge, Wolfram felt fear of it and its inhabitants growing in his gut. "What do you want with my baby?"

"I came before you, the first true success and the last trial." She peered at him with eyes more empty than ever before. "Hanreid sought a way to make you conceive his child. He spent many years and many lives in experimentation until he found the right blend of magic and chemistry to achieve his ultimate goal. Ever pragmatic, he chose each bearer for the wealth and power they brought to the marriage. Many miscarried again and again, or the babe came stillborn or lacking something necessary to live more than a few minutes." The first trace of emotion he'd ever seen in her leeched into her eyes for just a moment but was swiftly squelched. "My little girl was born healthy and strong, but with that success he had no more use for us. He gave us to his sorcerer. I never held her. If I named her, that too is gone along with my one."

Wolfram felt tears well and fall. If he lost his own baby, he'd be devastated. Perhaps that explained her lack of emotion. Cutting herself off from them allowed her to go on.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Hanreid knows not how poisonous a viper slithers at his side. His pride will not let him conceive of the possibility that he isn't in total control. The sorcerer has plans of his own for your babe beyond those of his twisted master."

Wolfram wrapped his arms around his belly. "I won't let him hurt her!" But he knew his face had gone white. Without his magic or the means of escape, he had no way to back his words. Somehow he had to find a way. His child would not suffer as these children had.

Wait….

"You're trying to distract me. Answer my question. What do you want with my baby? Is she the only reason you've been helping me all this time?"

"Your daughter," she reached again to touch him and Wolfram scrambled to his feet and out of reach, "is the key to many things for many people. What door do you suppose the wronged dead seek to open?"

His erstwhile benefactor stood and Wolfram backed away from her to the edge of the circle of light. He sensed other eyes watching and spun around to see the children, all of them, a sea on the other side of the light. On the outskirts, the fire lion paced back and forth.

The eyes of the children again gleamed with the red sheen of night predators as they had in the first dream of his captivity. He read their posture and backed away from them and closer to the approaching woman. He felt trapped.

"No one is using my daughter!"

"Someone will, Wolfram von Bielefeld. Your choices will determine who. And you have little time to decide."

With those ominous words echoing in his ears, Wolfram woke with a start. His heart nearly stopped when he found the sorcerer sitting on the edge of his bed and slowly leafing through the sketch book he'd been working on.

"Those are just practice drawings, they aren't good enough for anyone else to see. Please give it back." He reached for it but the sorcerer just stood and walked a few steps away and finished his perusal.

Wolfram had never seen the face hidden by the ever present hood, but over the months of his captivity, he had learned to read his body language. The thin hands remained relaxed as they turned page after page. His shoulders, however, had tensed and hitched up slightly, a rare sign that he was disturbed.

When he'd reached the last page of drawings, he slowly closed the sketch book and the cowl faced his way. Wolfram tensed, whatever his reaction, it wouldn't be good.

"Your pencil work is quite good, young lord." The sorcerer actually sounded sincere. "You have a talent for capturing expressions. What inspired them?"

Wolfram knew what he meant by "them" and opened his mouth to give the explanation he'd come up with while the other man looked through his work.

"And do not lie to me."

The demand had steel in it that Wolfram had never heard in the sorcerer's voice before. His heart rate doubled and he had to fight an overwhelming urge to put more distance between them. In light of what he'd just learned about him, Wolfram no longer trusted his earlier estimation of the cloaked magic worker's capacities.

"Dreams," he admitted. "They're from my dreams."

The sorcerer stared at him for a very long minute. Then, to Wolfram's surprised relief, he handed the book to him. "You ought to be more cautious. Should your husband ever see your artwork, his reaction is likely to be extreme. Now get dressed. The carriage is waiting."

Caught up in relief at the unexpected reprieve, Wolfram didn't at first hear the last part. He jumped when the sorcerer scooped up the pile of clothes he hadn't noticed on the foot of the bed and dumped them in his lap.

"What is this?"

"Lord von Hanreid has decided that it's time to pay a visit to his in-laws. You ought to be happy. You'll see your family again after all. He wants his son born in the place that will be his inheritance with proper healers in attendance."

In other words, he wanted witnesses to the birth to counter any legitimacy challenge to the claim to the Maoh's throne he intended to make in the child's name. Hanreid covered every eventuality.

"Put those on. Or do you want your husband to come see what's keeping us? He'd be happy to assist you."

With a swallow to clear the choking in his throat, Wolfram got awkwardly to his feet. He moved carefully. Lately any sudden or incautious movement sent twinges of pain through his groin. The symptom worried him, especially since he wasn't due for at least another month. The sorcerer helped him into the oversized sweater, cloak, hat, and scarf. He knelt to help him shove his feet into wool-lined boots before standing to take his arm and guide him to the spelled doorway.

For the first time since he'd been brought here on his wedding night, Wolfram stepped through the magical seal that kept him prisoner.

It wasn't a pleasant sensation, like ants crawling across every inch of his skin. He came through shaking so hard he needed the sorcerer's support to stay on his feet. While he stood there recovering, the sound of heavy steps thundering on the staircase reached them to herald Hanreid's arrival. The sorcerer took advantage of helping him straighten up to whisper a warning. "Think of your human daughter and behave yourself."

Dressed for travel and not in a good mood, Hanreid raked Wolfram with his glare. The smile that assessment brought to his captor's face held promises that Wolfram had absolutely no desire to see fulfilled.

"How long did you plan to keep me waiting?" He didn't wait for an answer, just swept Wolfram up in his arms and carried him down the staircase, through the entry where a few servants bowed out of his way and wished them a safe journey, and out into the courtyard.

A footman opened and held the carriage door for them. Hanreid eased him to his feet and handed him up into their transport with all the solicitude of a doting husband. He climbed in close behind him, bumping into Wolfram in a way that brought them into intimate contact.

"Careful, love," he said for the benefit of the soldiers milling about preparing for departure. He caught Wolfram by his upper arms as if to steady him but actually to keep him pressed against him.

Wolfram stood still, remembering the spellcaster's warning. The second Hanreid's grip eased, he escaped to sit as far from him as the confines of the carriage allowed. Hanreid sat next to him so close he had no room to pull further away. Hanreid said nothing more. The hand groping his thigh spoke volumes. Wolfram bit his tongue and stared out the window, trying to let the purposeful chaos of their escort making ready to leave distract him from what was happening.

He should've known better.

A large hand darted passed his face to pull the shutter closed. Privacy assured, Hanreid let his true nature come to the fore. He grabbed Wolfram's wrist and dragged him practically nose to nose, tightening his grip when Wolfram tried to pull away. The hot tongue darted out to lick the curve of his lower lip.

"Do you know what you do to me, what I've had to endure all these months without you? I've dreamt of you every night you know, of the moment I will claim you again. Did you miss me, my wolf cub?"

Wolfram closed his eyes and said nothing, praying for someone to intervene before Hanreid lost control. His assailant's free hand grabbed his chin and forced his head around.

"Open your eyes."

He kept them shut, not wanting Hanreid to see the fear his every touch and word drove into him.

"Have you forgotten who suffers when you defy me? Open them!"

The low growl held anger and a dangerous edge. The grip on his wrist tightened to the point he thought bone might break. Wolfram reluctantly obeyed.

Hanreid nodded, satisfied with what he saw. "Now show me you missed me as much as I missed you."

Wolfram's cringe didn't spare him the second, deeper assault on his mouth. Panic surged when Hanreid released his wrist and started groping for a way inside his clothes. He lashed out but the larger man shifted his weight to trap his right arm against the seat back. His free arm lacked the leverage to force those questing fingers away from him and the grip on his chin kept him from squirming free.

The one-sided struggle didn't slow down when the sorcerer climbed into the carriage, shut the door, and took his place on the opposite seat. Hanreid continued his assault even as the coach lurched forward and their journey began.

"If I may remind my Lord," the hooded man broke the tableau, "we do not have the wherewithal to deal with a premature delivery on the road."

The tongue trying to go down his throat retreated, but the man remained close.

"I won't endanger my son by taking you now," Hanreid murmured in Wolfram's ear. "But in a month he will be sleeping in his royal crib, and you will be warming my bed. I'll get a spare brat off of you eventually, but not for a long," he kissed him again, "long time," and abruptly released him to sit back as if nothing had happened.

Wolfram faced away from both men as best the small space allowed, furious, mortified, and sick with relief at the end groping session. The conditioned fear response left him trembling uncontrollably, a sight that set off Hanreid's triumphant chuckle.

Wolfram buried his face in his hands, not to hide his misery as his captors no doubt assumed but any sign of the hope born in the last minutes.

The ghost woman had it right. Hanreid's pride was his weakness, fueling overconfidence. With Greta's safety as leverage and the law on his side, the man was confident he had Wolfram right where he wanted him. Engrossed in his own enjoyment, Hanreid hadn't marked the fact that Wolfram fought back without collapsing. He may have lost the struggle, but Wolfram now knew for certain that he was free of magical restraint. And Hanreid was taking him home where he'd have allies. He smiled into his palms.

Hanreid had made his second mistake.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Thanks for reading! As always, please review, your feedback is most welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Wolfram finds reason to hope. Yuuri confronts the man seeking to destroy everything he loves. Be here for __**Chapter 13: The Tables Turn.**_


	13. The Tables Turn

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TMLC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thank you all for your long patience with me. Every review, like, and follow made me even more determined to get this chapter done. It's very long and I hope worth the wait._

_Things are a little less frantic now so I'll be able to spend more time typing. The next chapter will not take as long to post as this one did. Please hang in with me, the big finale where things start to get REALLY creepy is only a few more chapters away. _

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

_Noncon in this chapter.  
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**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 13: The Tables Turn**

Lost in the telling, Yuuri jumped when Murata tapped his shoulder. Once Yuuri came back far enough to notice him, the other boy held a glass of water in front of him.

"Here. You're starting to lose your voice."

Only with those words did he realize how thirsty he was. Pushing himself up on one arm, Yuuri gratefully accepted the drink and swallowed until the dryness in his throat and mouth eased. He handed the tumbler back empty.

"Thanks."

Murata cocked his head, his eyes darting about as he stared at him. "I can see how hard this is on you. Do you want to stop?"

"No," he said, "there's not much left and I really don't want to have to do this again, ever."

"Okay then." After placing the glass on the desk, Murata leaned back in his chair without another word and waited for him to resume in his own time.

Bracing himself, Yuuri closed his eyes. Like a movie behind his eyelids, the memories started up again.

-o0O0o-

It had not been an easy journey. The driver was forced to a snail's pace to minimize the jolting that sent frightening spasms through Wolfram's belly. Even the soldiers in their escort noticed. At one of the frequent unscheduled rest stops, the captain deferentially suggested turning off to a village where he knew a good midwife lived.

He sported a blackening cheek for his presumption.

The sorcerer said nothing but even Hanreid must see the "I told you so" in his posture.

Wolfram lay curled up on one of the carriage seats with a travel blanket wrapped around him, past caring, and focused the energy he had left on the baby. Her position had shifted to head down. She was more than ready to be born.

'Not yet. Please, love, not here.' He sent calming thoughts to his child. 'There's a warm birthing room waiting for us at home. Oh, everyone will love you, especially your grandmother. She'll spoil you rotten, I promise. Only please wait a little longer.'

He must have passed out or fallen asleep because the next thing Wolfram knew, night had fallen. The sound of the carriage wheels rolling to a stop on cobblestone told him they'd reached the city proper. As he struggled to come fully awake, someone joined him inside, setting the bench seat under him rocking. The captain with the bruised face smiled reassuringly but Wolfram didn't miss the worry in his eyes.

Through the carriage door over the soldier's head, he made out the swinging wooden sign for The Laughing Cockerel Inn with its namesake mascot's red, yellow, and green feathers still brilliant with only torchlight to illuminate them. Many inn and hostels in Shin Makoku sported roosters as their emblem, but wise travelers knew to watch for one claw wrapped around the stem of a spray of lavender wisteria. This was the inn of choice for nobles and other dignitaries when, for whatever reasons, staying at Blood Pledge Castle proved impossible. Wolfram almost snorted – nothing but the best for Hanreid.

"It's good you're awake, Lord Wolfram." Careful hands were raising him into a sitting position. "We need you to tell us if anything hurts when we move you." The next words he muttered more to himself than to Wolfram. "Blast, I knew you were too close to your time. Why his Lordship risked this journey…."

Wolfram couldn't stop the pained gasp brought on by a fresh spasm when the man started to assist him to his feet.

"Easy. Relax as best you can. Let us do the work."

Wolfram gave a brittle nod as he breathed in the deep steadying rhythm Lady Julia had described in the birthing classes she'd taught. It helped a little but he knew he needed a healer to prevent his child's premature birth.

After a few moments, the captain lifted Wolfram in his arms, carefully turned and eased through the door to transfer him into Hanreid's waiting arms. Somewhere along the way, he'd changed into a formal tailored suit of navy blue with a fur-lined cloak that declared his wealth and high station. Hanreid smiled down at him, with that hunger once again in his eyes. The soldier mistook his flinch and grimace for renewed pain.

"Lord von Hanreid, surely there are healers in this town. I can send my men…."

"No need," the sorcerer spoke up from atop the coach. He removed a small leather case and dropped to the ground with surprising grace. "I will tend to Lord Wolfram's needs while we rest at this inn."

"It won't be long," Hanreid explained. "Once I've spoken with my brother-in-law at the castle, we'll be lodging there. A room is already prepared for you, my love, where you may rest in comfort while I make new arrangements."

Hanreid carried him as if he weighed nothing into the inn and up the stairs. Wolfram could just see quick glimpses in passing of the curious stares of the staff and patrons trying to get a look at the mysterious guest. He held the blanket close. The last thing he wanted was his shame bandied about the town and castle before he had a chance to explain to Yuuri and his family. Assuming Hanreid allowed him the privacy to do so.

A chambermaid knelt at the hearth building up the fire. On their entrance, she quickly finished, stood and curtseyed. "Will there be anything else my Lords?"

"No," Hanreid told here. "And there's no need to bring our luggage up. We'll only be staying the night."

"Yes, My Lord."

Hanreid waited for the maid to leave before setting Wolfram down on the divan before the fireplace and waving the sorcerer over. The man bent down to take his pulse and spread one hand over his belly, feeling the muscles contracting through his clothing.

"How is the child?" Hanreid demanded.

"Staying put, but not for long."

"See to it he stays there long enough for us to reach Blood Pledge Castle. My son will be born in his seat of power."

The hood bowed in the wake of the larger man's clipped departure.

Focused on regulating his breathing, Wolfram watched the sorcerer remove folded night clothes from the case he'd brought along. He made no fuss as the sorcerer helped him out of his outerwear. "Where is he going?" he asked through the sinking feeling in his gut.

"Your lord husband has gone to make arrangements with his in-laws for quarters in the castle. The news upsets you. Are you not eager to see your family and share the joy of your coming addition?"

Wolfram glared through his panting, "You know full well that once word gets out that I'm pregnant, I lose everything. Why should I be eager for that?"

The sorcerer pulled the sweater off over his head, leaving him to again don under his own power the belted robe and drawstring pajama pants he'd been wearing when he'd been forced to dress for this awful trip. "Perhaps your future is not as bleak as you paint it."

He snorted at the idea. "How pray tell can life with a man I loathe who's made me his legal whore and intends for me to bear his attentions and his children until I drop dead be any less bleak?"

"Your husband will soon have an heir to focus on. Grooming him will take precedence over his sexual pleasures."

And that was supposed to make him feel better?

"You should rest, sleep if you can. I'll see if the kitchen here has something that will sit gently on your stomach."

Wolfram settled himself gracelessly back on the divan. Resting on his side eased the weight on his bladder and felt comfortable enough that he just might sleep.

"You almost sound as if you care."

The hooded man draped a blanket over him. "I don't. The babe is my charge and concern. Your physical and emotional health affect the well being of the child you bear; therefore, I tend to both within the parameters Lord von Hanreid allows. Rest," he ordered again, "I will not be long."

"Make it soup. Broth if they have it. I don't think I can keep anything else down."

"I'll bring more than that and you will eat what you can."

The hooded man slipped out the door without another word. Wolfram heard the metallic click of a key turning and knew he'd been locked in. He noted with disgust that black iron bars had been bolted across the single window in the room to keep thieves out.

No doubt Hanreid deliberately chose this room not for security but to keep him in now he didn't have the spelled room to guarantee he'd stay put. Wolfram cursed his "dear" husband for being so paranoid. Even near full term and bigger than a barn, given the opportunity, Wolfram would have found a way to take it.

Another cramp and a grimace twisted his face as he reassessed his condition. The exhaustion choking every muscle and joint combined with a center of balance skewed by his pregnancy made escape out a window desperate and too risky.

Rubbing comforting circles over his stomach, Wolfram closed his eyes and waited for the sorcerer's return. The man was right about one thing. He needed rest and food after the stress of the journey here. Before he faced what must come, he wanted to regain as much strength as he could.

Gradually his body relaxed and the tension eased. The cramping faded and thankfully stopped. The relief that brought actually let him drift into a welcome light doze.

He woke abruptly, every instinct screaming in alarm. By the time he figured out that what had shattered his sleep was someone shifting the divan he slept on, it was too late. Hanreid had tossed the blanket aside and joined him on the small couch. He hadn't even bothered to remove his cloak first.

"What the…!"

Those brutal hands rolled him over so he faced the back of the padded lounger.

"We're about to have company," Hanreid whispered as he forced Wolfram's face into the cushion while his free hand unfastened the knot in his drawstring pajamas and yanked them down past his knees. "I intend to give them a show."

Wolfram realized what was about to happen and panic overwhelmed him. He tried to push himself out of the trap that Hanreid's body formed around him, but Hanreid overwhelmed his efforts. Sandwiched between the cushioned seat back and Hanreid's greater weight, Wolfram couldn't escape the intimate contact as he ground and humped against his backside to stimulate himself. When the pajama bottoms interfered with his pleasure, Hanreid shifted both his wrists to one hand and impatiently pushed them further down until he could pull them off, leaving Wolfram half naked.

Hanreid slid fingers along his side and reached between them. Wolfram felt him growing hard.

Wolfram screamed but the cushioning that half suffocated him also effectively muffled his voice too much to bring help. Realizing he was helpless to stop him, Wolfram bit down on his tongue and tried to relax in hopes of minimizing the pain and damage until the sorcerer returned with his meal and put a stop to it.

Hanreid went at him as if to make up for all the opportunities he'd had to let pass. He moaned his pleasure with loud enthusiasm, pitching each sound to make sure that anyone passing close enough to the suite had no doubt as to what was happening behind that door.

"You're too quiet. Is that any way for a bride to behave?" Wolfram felt fingers curl into in his hair and pull back until his face came free of the divan back that served as his gag. "Sing out, my love," the hot panting breath behind the demand gusted over his ear, "or your high-and-mighty big brother will think I am a bad husband."

My brother?

The words Hanreid spoke when he first fell upon him rang through his head.

No. Oh, no! This can't happen! He'd die if Gwendal – if anyone – witnessed his shame, saw how pathetically weak he really was.

The terror that prospect inspired gave him new strength. Catching his rapist off guard, Wolfram twisted out of his grasp. He clutched at the back of the divan to pull himself up, determined to climb over the top if he had to.

Wolfram froze. A sharp pain ripped through his stomach, nothing like the cramps that had plagued him since the journey here began.

"Oh, no you don't!"

Not caring what thwarted his escape attempt, Hanreid snatched him back down and more firmly into position under him to finish what he'd begun.

"Stop!" Wolfram begged, not caring for his pride anymore when the pain escalated to agony. "The baby…!"

Hanreid ignored him, lost in his own pleasure. Another contraction stole his breath. Oh, gods! Wolfram got one arm free and flailed desperately at Hanreid's head.

The man shifted just enough to recapture it without stopping, "You're feisty tonight, my love," and released inside him with a shudder that shook them both. A third contraction choked a sob out of him even as Hanreid grabbed his chin and pried his jaws apart for a deep lingering kiss.

The second he could, Wolfram tried again to get away. "Get off me!"

As always, his wishes went unheeded. Laughing at him, Hanreid sat up to stare down at his handiwork in satisfaction before grasping Wolfram's hips to drag him relentlessly over his thighs for another assault.

Suddenly, his attacker was gone. Sobbing for breath, Wolfram rolled into a ball around his stomach, too weak to try to rise from the mess Hanreid's lust had left behind. The sorcerer must have finally returned and intervened. In a distant way, he knew other people were in the room, was vaguely aware of voices speaking, but he had no attention left to give to the intrusion. He was on the verge of going into labor.

Eyes tight shut, Wolfram scrambled to dredge up enough healing energy to put a halt to the premature birth of his daughter before it was too late. Only a very little maryoku answered his call. He used what came to tip the balance in his body as best he could away from the state necessary for labor. The intense concentration necessary for the effort left him feeling like an old cleaning rag: shredded, threadbare, and ready for the trash heap. But he breathed a relieved sigh. The labor symptoms had faded back. What he managed wouldn't last though. He needed to get to Gisela as soon as possible.

He blinked his eyes open to see Hanreid half-sprawled on the floor. The man shot a lightning glance his way before facing the direction of the doorway.

Hanreid rose from the floor with that insufferable smirk on his face. Only this time it wasn't aimed at him.

"Surely Your Majesty's business with me isn't so urgent that you had to break in without an invitation."

The last traces of warmth fled his face as Wolfram realized just who had interrupted his rape. He raised his head to see Yuuri, Gwendal and Conrart with swords drawn, and Geika facing down Hanreid and trying not to stare at him. Suddenly aware of his state of undress, he pushed himself upright and tried to cover himself.

"Don't." He lurched clumsily to his feet when Hanreid dragged him up and into his grip. One arm locked around his shoulders to pin him against his chest. The other came around to embrace his exposed belly, rubbing it possessively in a declaration of his ownership of Wolfram and the baby. "We have nothing to hide, or to be ashamed of. Let them see."

And Wolfram heard the triumph in those words, in that tone in his voice. He began to shake uncontrollably as Hanreid displayed him like a prize heifer at a country fair. The looks on their faces – outrage, fury, pity – Wolfram let his head drop so he didn't see them anymore. He didn't have the strength to face them, especially Yuuri whose expression refused to settle on one emotion. What must he think seeing him like this?

Then suddenly the tips of Conrart's boots entered his line of sight followed by and the shadow of his sword and arm and Wolfram knew he threatened Hanreid over him.

"Get your hands off my brother!"

Hanreid released him, though Wolfram knew it was only a momentary safety. Soon or late, they'd have to return him to his husband. Still, the feel of his brother's gentle hand guiding him away from his tormentor filled his soul with warmth, something he'd lacked and yearned for all the months of his captivity.

"You come late to this party, Weller. My hands and more have graced my wolf cub, as you can obviously see."

Wolfram flinched at Hanreid's boasting words, wanted desperately to sink through the floor and hide from his shame and the revulsion that must be in the eyes of everyone staring at him. He groped with palsied fingers for the ties of his shin-length tunic to again try to cover himself, but they wouldn't obey him. He shuddered when another pair of hands moved into view but relaxed when he recognized the sleeves of Yuuri's black jacket. He held a glaringly colorful shawl or throw of some kind that he eased over Wolfram's head to wrap around his shoulders. He let Yuuri walk him further away from Hanreid and ease him into a chair by the fireplace. The waves of heat coming off the flames burning on the hearth washed over him without easing his shivers.

As Yuuri fussed with the shawl, Wolfram peered over his shoulder to again glimpse Gwendal's face as he confronted a confident Hanreid. Wolfram had never seen him so angry, not even during the worst days of the war.

"Did they see?" he breathed softly so no one else heard over the confrontation taking place on the other side of the room.

Yuuri's face crumpled and he lifted a hand to brush Wolfram's hair out of his eyes. He gave him a watery smile and replied just as quietly, "No, but they know what happened. Rest here, Wolfram. Everything is going to be alright. We'll have you out of here and under Gisela's care in no time."

The other boy took a moment to master his emotions before straightening to place himself between him and his, Wolfram swallowed the bile trying to climb up his throat, husband, who stood in gloating triumph even under the threat of two swords.

"Gregor von Hanreid, you are under arrest for assaulting and threatening the life of your Maoh, and for the kidnapping, assault, and rape of my fiancé. Each of these charges is an act of treason, am I correct, Lord von Voltaire?"

Huddled in the chair, Wolfram almost smiled when his brother confirmed Yuuri's grasp of the law. Yuuri sounded so confident, his words firm without a trace of nerves or any of the emotions he must be feeling. Wolfram hadn't realized he'd retained so much of the information Gunter had been striving to fill his head with. Pride swelled in his heart. What a king you will be. Though not if Hanreid has his way.

"Ah, but I did not rape your consort, Yuuri Heika. I made love to my lawfully wedded husband."

Wolfram flinched and stared at a scratch in the dark wood floor rather than see realization dawn on the faces of his brothers, Murata, and Yuuri. The room grew so quiet; he could hear his heart racing in his chest. Gwendal asked the question he didn't want to answer.

"Wolfram, is it true?"

He wanted to deny it, to not disappoint them with his failure, but they'd seen the truth already. "Yes," he managed around the choking tension in his throat. Wolfram focused even harder on the scratch, curling around his stomach in misery.

"Without coercion?"

Everyone, including Hanreid, stared at him, waiting for his answer. This was his change, possibly his only one, to tell the truth. In this room at this moment, only he and his cursed husband knew what kind of marriage trapped him. If he spoke now, he had a chance to tell people who wouldn't let the tribute bond close their ears to his words and what had been done to him. Forewarned, they might find a way to break the marriage bond and save him and his baby.

Wolfram looked up, his mouth opened to reply, but Hanreid caught his gaze. The threat in those hard eyes froze the words in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. Behind them darkness shifted in the bedroom and the sorcerer emerged to step out into the receiving area unobserved by anyone else to slip into a shadowed corner with a better vantage point.

Nausea blossomed in his abused stomach as Wolfram realized that the spellcaster had been in the room all along, watching and doing nothing.

A skeletal hand lifted and slowly waved in a subtle reminder of the wedding day pantomime he'd performed with Greta's teddy bear. Wolfram got the message. Denounce Hanreid and his daughter suffered.

Wolfram dropped his head and let his chance pass him by. Hanreid raised his voice and answered for him.

"He wed me of his own will. I admit it hasn't been easy. We were strangers after all, thanks to your interference. But I love him, and he has grown to love me."

Wolfram silently cursed his weakness that let the two men manipulate him like a chess piece in a game. What was he going to do now? His rapist would never allow him out of his sight long enough to plot against him. If he found a way to warn them to get Greta to safety, their threats lose the power to keep him at heel. Maybe then….

He saw the sorcerer raise his hand again, the fingers moved in a casting gesture. The cowl faced toward Conrart as he drew back his sword.

"Brother, don't!"

The dark spell sent Conrart staggering away from Hanreid to collide with Murata. He quickly regained his balance to again stand at the ready, a warrior through and through. Wolfram gave a shuddering sigh and slumped with relief to see him alright. He may never have seen the sorcerer use magic to kill but had no doubt he had the ability and the will.

Wolfram let the confrontation move on without him, suddenly too weary to take part even if that had been possible. Besides, he knew how it must end. In the face of the tribute bond's strictures, Gwendal must leave him in Hanreid's possession. As one of the Ten Aristocrats, his big brother knew the laws of Shin Makoku and had sworn to uphold them.

Like a moth drawn to a lantern's flame, he lifted his head to watch disaster fall.

And the world kept going.

Clutching his wrap with one hand and the edge of the chair seat with the other, Wolfram tried to counter the vertigo with healing magic. The raised maryoku, slight as it was, set everything spinning. His body began shivering with bone-deep cold. Thick saliva filled his mouth. He swallowed only to have his stomach object strenuously to the intrusion. Again he tried to draw on his healing energy, this time to combat the nausea only to make things worse.

Something had gone wrong with his ability to heal himself. Wolfram shut off the flow of maryoku but his condition kept getting worse.

Inside him, he felt the baby twist in distress.

He needed help now!

Wolfram fought through senses reeling in total chaos to grope in the direction he hoped Yuuri stood. His fingers closed on black cloth even as his legs gave out under him. They fell together to the floor. Yuuri used his body to cushion the impact for him, and where skin met skin it burned hot as an oven. Wolfram realized his body temperature had fallen to a dangerous level.

"Wolf! What is it? What's wrong?"

"Gisela," he managed to gasp as the darkness closed in. "Need…"

Coherency slipped through his fingers on the heels of all-encompassing night.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri ended the long, horrific tale with "And that's when I came out of it." He wiped tears from his face with the handkerchief Murata had given him at some point. The other boy had controlled himself better, but behind the glasses a bleak fury burned in his dark eyes that betrayed just how old a soul his friend carried. "I think maybe a part of me knew something was wrong."

Murata nodded, having come to the same conclusion. "You mean the dreams."

"Yeah. They fit too well with what Wolfram went through while we were away on Earth, especially that last one. Do you suppose the Maoh stays connected with Shin Makoku when we leave?"

The other black-haired boy shrugged. "Can't say for sure, but it would explain why Wolfram didn't miscarry within days of us leaving." His head tipped to the side, "But I don't think that's what you really wanted to ask. What aren't you saying, Shibuya?"

Suddenly Yuuri needed to move. He got up from Murata's bed and began pacing the sparse room. "I asked to know. I…I wanted to know what Wolfram went through so I can help him get better. But I don't know what to do with what I learned. How do I even start?"

"_You_ don't."

That stopped him mid-stride. "Huh?"

Murata leaned forward, elbows on knees and chin cupped in his palms. "Friends and family members make that mistake a lot trying to help someone they love through a trauma. They want so badly for that person to be well, to get over what happened, that they push too hard too soon to talk about it. Their hope is that facing it with their support will speed up the healing process.

"But you can't rush this kind of thing without causing more harm. The mind suppresses memories for a reason. When the victimized avoid talking or thinking about what happened to them, we shouldn't force them to."

Yuuri wondered at the way Murata chose to phrase it. He sat on the edge of the bed again. "Don't you mean victim?"

"Victim implied weakness, as if on some level the person is partly to blame. It opens them up to the kind of pity they don't deserve and everyone else needs to learn not to mistake for support or sympathy. When I look at Wolfram von Bielefeld, I measure his strength by what he endured. I do not see a victim, I see a survivor. What do you see, Shibuya?"

Yuuri gave the question the serious thought it deserved. The answer that came to him sounded hokey, but it also sounded right.

"I see Wolfram."

Murata's eyebrows went up. "Sometimes you actually surprise me. Wolfram is lucky to have you. And vice versa."

"Never mind that," he brushed passed the comment. Murata's expression made Yuuri blush. He had no time to deal with the reason. "We're talking about how to help Wolfram."

Murata changed track without breaking stride. "Patience is the key. Right now he needs all his focus on his health and that of his child. It might be months, even years, before Wolfram is ready to talk about some of the things that happened to him."

"What do I do when he _is_ ready?"

Peace somehow spread from the smile Murata gave him through Yuuri and chased away some of the chilly dread that had taken hold at the enormity of what he faced became clearer.

"Listen to him. Follow where he leads at the pace he sets. If, or more likely when, he has flashbacks, what you learned will give you the insight necessary to respond in a way he'll need without him saying anything if he can't or won't."

"Okay." Hearing the uncertainty in his own voice, he repeated with more vigor. "Okay. I can do this."

Murata grinned, "I know you can."

A soft knock at the door and Conrad's voice announced his return. "It's me. I have our copies and have seen the dispatch riders on their way. It's time to head back."

-o0O0o-

Hanreid raised his head from the book he wasn't reading when the sorcerer returned from his wanderings. The "courtesy" guards set on him by von Voltaire kept him from wandering about but that was no hindrance for the magic wielder. At some point in his life, he must have been a master spy for some lucky lord or lady. He hoped he had something of interest to report. He was so bored!

"Well?"

"They have returned from the temple," the sorcerer replied. "The young king seemed upset."

Hanreid grinned ear to ear. "Well, learning that his only options are the ones I offered no doubt ruined his grand plans to rescue his fair prince, defeat the evil tyrant, and save the world."

The lanky spellcaster claimed the chair opposite him in front of the tiny fireplace. "Yuuri Heika is still very naïve. His advisors protected him too well from harsher aspects of kingship in deference to his youth. That doesn't mean that he can be dismissed too casually. He did find it within himself to defeat the Originators."

Hanreid snorted derisively, beginning to grow irritated at the man's incessant need to point out the flaws, miniscule though they might be, in his plans and thinking.

"Not an issue. I've taken his measure. He may be the most powerful being in Shin Makoku but he has no idea how to wield that power. Even if he did, it has no place in a court of law where we stand as equals. I have countered every possible way they can challenge my demands and they know it. If in desperation they decide to try to break our bond in court, it will be Wolfram's reputation that suffers. For his sake, Yuuri won't take it that far." Oh, yes. All of them would dance to the tempo he set. "Speaking of my husband, were you able to see my wolf cub?"

"No, My Lord. They've tightened security. I might have been able to slip through, but from what I was able to learn, Lord Wolfram's condition is still precarious. His body is reacting adversely to magical energy and that includes healing magic. I feared a negative reaction if I used a portal to visit or spy on him. I did warn against moving him so close to delivery."

"Wolfram's stronger than he looks, taught us that over the last year and more. It was worth the risk. Now they cannot claim that I brought in another's child to make a false claim. Seeing the looks on their faces when they first laid eyes on him? That was icing on the cake." As for the chance to lie with his husband again? That part of their arrival in the capital had been his gift to himself.

Even now he felt a stirring in his body just visualizing that beautiful face and the spark of defiance in those green eyes. He simply had to quell it, but not to the point of extinguishing it. He wanted Wolfram cowed but not broken, for the contest between them had proved more potent for him than any drug. Wolfram was indeed strong where it counted, not like all his other lovers. He planned to make him last a long, long time.

"My Lord?"

Back to business. "What is it?"

The sorcerer leaned forward slightly, an unusual sign of curiosity. Hanreid didn't move himself but sharpened his attention.

"You are on the verge of accomplishing what you have diligently worked decades to achieve. I admit curiosity. What will you do once you have the thrown of Shin Makoku?"

Motivation – the why of things that everyone obsessively wanted to know, as if it were any of their business. The only exception had been the Great One. So revered, so powerful, no one tried to see past the handsome façade that toward the end served as the mask the Originators planned to use to rule the world.

He had plans of his own alright. He aimed an empty grin at the blackness beneath the hood and said nothing. Let the sorcerer guess at them to his heart's delight.

After a bit, he sat back. "I see," he responded as if he actually did.

It hardly mattered either way. The sorcerer no doubt recognized the advantages of riding his wake and the potential for his own gain if he remained his lackey. The sorcerer's hunger for power had brought him to Hanreid's side and Hanreid would keep him there until he had no more use – or tolerance – for the man.

"Then sit back and enjoy the fruits of my long labor."

Hanreid pushed to his feet and walked to the sideboard where a carafe of wine and a set of crystal goblets waited.

"I suppose right now they've gathered to discuss and discard last-ditch strategies to stop me. Eventually," he filled a glass for himself and took a sip. Not bad. Apparently the household staff didn't stint even on unwanted guests, "they will be forced to accept my terms."

"How long do you suppose that will take?"

He tipped his head back for a long swallow. "Shall we make a wager on it?"

-o0O0o-

"Paper covers rock!"

Greta's small hands covered his and Yosak's larger ones as she laughed in delight.

"Honestly," Wolfram grumbled without meaning a bit of it, "it seems silly to me that something as enduring as a rock must concede to flimsy paper."

Yosak barked his own laugh, "Bet you wouldn't say that if you'd been paper." Conrart's sword brother smiled from the bedside chair where he sat with Greta perched on his knee. "I asked Conrart about that. He guessed the creators of the game chose items that most closest matched the shapes their hands made. You've studied military strategy, Lord Wolfram. A weaker opponent can defeat a stronger one given the right circumstances."

Those had never been right for him when it came to Hanreid. The man went to extremes to make sure of that.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because Greta squeezed his hand where her fingers still rested.

"Are you feeling bad?"

He smiled for her, "No, Greta, I'm just tired. The baby needs a lot of my energy. My getting sick left me with little to spare."

She raised her hand and warm fingers gently petted his cheek, the way he often did to hers when tucking her in at night.

"Then you should take a nap. I'll take one with you!"

"I'm afraid not, "came from the doorway. Conrart stood there, arms crossed and leaning on the jam as he watched them.

"You're late for your lessons. Half the castle must know you've skipped out on your tutor by now."

Yosak chuckled, "I'll bet the old biddy has her skirts all in a bunch and is trying to convince the palace guard to initiate a room to room search for her 'poor lost lamb'."

All three of them grinned over her auburn curls while his daughter's face squirmed with that particular look youngsters get when burdened with unreasonable adults. She'd inherited Mistress Schooley from him and his brothers. She'd taught all of Celi's sons in their time. Old enough to have served as tutor to the children of the previous two Maohs, she doted on them all like they were her very own grandchildren. She never believed any of her "babes" capable of taking care of themselves outside of her supervision. If they ever got out of her sight, surely they must be in trouble.

Apparently, nothing had changed.

"You need to go to your classes, Greta." A cute little pout and his own need for something to distract his thoughts really made Wolfram want to change his mind, but he stood firm. "You will be a grand lady of your own lands some day. You want to be prepared and to do me and Yuuri proud, don't you?"

Her head went up and down reluctantly.

"Then you mustn't let me be an excuse to avoid them." He waited for her to look up before adding, "At least not every day."

Greta pounced on that loophole immediately. "I'll visit you every other day, starting tomorrow." She slid off Yosak's lap and grabbed his wrist. "Come on, quick, before he changes his mind!"

The two were on their way before Wolfram had a chance to say differently. Their conversation drifted back to them as Conrart strode forward to take their place and Greta grabbed the hand of her usual escort.

"Sneaky. That move was worthy of one of my own plots, pixie."

"I'm not a pixie, no wings." Greta skipped along swinging their clasped hands in wide arcs. "Do you think I can get Daddy Yuuri to make the baby's presentation a masquerade? Then I can dress like one."

"I'm not so sure about that one." On one swing he and her guard lifted her off her feet to a squeal of laughter and a stern glance from the apprentice healer on duty at the front desk. "You know how His Majesty is when it comes to formal affairs."

"Yeah. A wimp."

"Exactly."

Wolfram looked up at his brother and joked, "Maybe we should limit their exposure to each other. I'm not certain which one is the more corrupting influence between them."

Conrart chuckled, "I'd say Greta, though only in the best of ways. Yosak's rather sharp humor is less edgy when he's with her." He gripped his shoulder in greeting before sitting down. Relief flooded Wolfram as he watched Conrart adjust his position so he could swiftly rise and draw his sword unimpeded if the situation called for it, ever on guard, especially with the enemy present under their roof. He gave Wolfram a speculative look. "Witnessing you in your role as father is truly enlightening. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd side with a tutor like that."

Wolfram smiled, thinking back to their shared childhood, "Remember the schemes we came up with to avoid our lessons?"

His little big brother arched a chestnut brow at him. "As I recall, they were your schemes. I just went along to keep you out of trouble."

A hint of melancholy came into Wolfram's mood remembering that time of innocence so many years gone. "I missed that when they sent you away to learn the soldier's art. It wasn't as much fun getting one over on the tutors without you." Wolfram dropped his eyes to stare at his hands where he'd folded them over his blanket-draped stomach, feeling suddenly awkward. They had never talked about it, just moved on, but if things went badly, this might be his last chance to speak it aloud. He wanted – needed – it said. "I missed _you_, Conrart. Please forgive me for never saying so before now, but I missed having you with me all those years. Even when I..."

Conrart reached out to still his hand, which has been plucking at the nap on the blanket without his knowledge. "It's alright, little brother. I can't say it didn't hurt sometimes, but I understood the pressures and fears behind your words and actions. I missed you too. As far as I'm concerned, the best part of Yuuri's coming to our world is the healing of our relationship."

"You're exaggerating. The defeat of the Originators comes first."

"Oh, that was important too."

The deadpan reply left Wolfram wide-eyed at first, then laughing. Conrart must have gotten the response he'd hoped for because he smiled in that way that pulled its twin from whoever he aimed it at.

"Family is all important to me, Wolfram. The war tore ours apart and it's just beginning to heal. That you trusted me, even in your delirium, to protect Greta means a lot to me."

Wolfram didn't remember any of that time. For him, the inn room went dark and he opened his eyes in Gisela's infirmary.

"Though I appreciate the sentiment, you never needed to ask for forgiveness for my sake. You've been mine to care for practically from the day you came into this world. No one knows you better than I do. Although," and Conrart's long, calloused fingers closed around his gently, "there is a certain young man of our acquaintance who will come to you better than I ever could."

When he opened his mouth to protest, Conrart interrupted. "I saw him as he held you on the carriage ride here, watched as he guarded your sleep. You have reason to hope for more, little brother."

Wolfram stared. Conrart was waiting for his words to sink in, expecting him to be pleased, if not ecstatic, to know that Yuuri might actually return his feelings. Though a corner of his soul glowed at the soft confirmation of what he'd seen hints of before...everything, he knew that not even the best outcome of his situation included him and Yuuri being anything more than friends. And that was hoping for a lot.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," he finally replied. "It means more than I can say to know that. But it's too late."

Wolfram turned away from the anguish on his brother's handsome face but couldn't block his words or the traitorous leap of his heart when he heard his response.

"You're wrong, Wolfram. Nothing that has happened to you will matter to Yuuri."

"But it has to, Conrart. Yuuri is our king. His wants, mine, can't play a part in his choices. Who he marries is a State matter and his spouse must meet criteria I am ruined for."

Wolfram felt his emotions clawing at the walls of control he'd fought so hard to build around them and changed the subject.

"I'm glad you had Yosak brink Greta to visit," Wolfram pleaded with tone and eyes for Conrart to let the other topic go. "Seeing that you keep her save, that they haven't hurt her... it helps."

Conrart let it go but shifted their conversation to a different grim issue. He observed, "Greta has never been without her guard detail, even before your kidnapping. Yet when we first brought you home, you insisted that I guard her. I have my suspicions, Wolfram, but we need to understand the threat to effectively defend against it. What exactly can Hanreid do?"

Wolfram shuddered, seeing in his mind's eye that skeletal hand reaching into a hole in the air to pull out a toy, to threaten his daughter.

"The man with him is a powerful sorcerer. He can create a magical portal and with it reach through to hurt her whenever they want to." Wolfram paused to rub soothing circles over his belly both for his and her comfort at the memory of that skeletal hand reaching for his sleeping child. "It only takes a second to do harm. You have the fastest reflexes of any warrior I know. You'd react fast enough to stop any attempt on Greta."

A scowl marred his brother's handsome face and his eyes went hard, "Yuuri told us how Hanreid kidnapped you. He threatened Greta to force your cooperation, didn't he?"

Though coached as a question, Wolfram saw that Conrart had already come to the right conclusion. He nodded confirmation. "I said what I had to. Under the terms of the tribute bond that's enough to be considered legal consent. I didn't have a choice. Hanreid put on a very effective demonstration of his sorcerer's reach the day he married me."

"Do you know the limits of his magic?"

"I'm not even sure how it works, but it feels wrong. He's twisted majutsu in ways I can't understand. He turned my own maryoku against me and used it to keep me prisoner. The harder I fought, the more of my strength it drained and stronger the trap that held me." And it left him defenseless against Hanreid's assaults. The thought triggered a memory and Wolfram flinched as he felt the sensation of a hot hand moving over his thigh, tasted Hanreid's tongue in the back of his throat. No, can't go there, can't let anyone know any more than they've guessed of what had been done to him. "Could… could you get me a drink of water, please?"

"Of course."

In the time it took Conrart to rise, fill a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table, and bring it to him, Wolfram forced the memory back to be dealt with later. Much later if he had any say about it.

"Thank you." He took a swallow to wash the taste memory from his mouth, drank a few more, and continued his report staring into the glass. "The portals he makes. Hanreid also uses them to spy on his enemies and blackmail people into doing what he wants them to. The sorcerer reached through to steal a toy from Greta's room to prove how easily they could hurt her if I defied Hanreid. He also breached your quarters and stole the art supplies that you'd purchased for me in Yuuri's world." Chagrined, he lifted his gaze to face squarely his part in that theft. "That was my fault. I asked for something to keep my mind occupied."

The brown head dipped briefly. "I'd planned to give them to you on your next birthday."

"That would have been nice."

Out in the main area of the infirmary, one of the interns backed into the room with a stack of manuals in his arms. One slipped from the pile and hit the floor with a bang.

And just like that a memory slipped free of his control and swallowed him whole. The hospital room vanished and he was back in his prison. The crashing sound roused Wolfram from a near stupor caused by a change in the drugs that laced his food to find Hanreid had slipped into the room. The shards of a vase scattered across the floor between them. Abandoning stealth, he surged forward to grab him by his upper arms and lift him into the air.

"Wolfram? Wolfram!"

Immobilized by spell and potion, Wolfram hung limp while Hanreid carried him to a corner of the room and pinned him there with his chest like a bug on a collector's display board. One arm clamped around his waist to hold him secure for what was coming. Wolfram smelled wine and something else on the breath gusting into his face while Hanreid crashed into him again and again and….

"Hold him still!"

A tiny corner of his mind echoed with his denial. This isn't happening. I'm safe with my brother. He isn't here! But it held no force compared to the visceral responses in his body, the sensation in every nerve that Hanreid's arms held him trapped while he….

Stinging pain in his cheek shattered the prison the reiteration of that memory had trapped him in. Wolfram blinked owlishly up into Conrart's concerned face. He tried to apologize, but his lungs didn't want to cooperate. He felt the mattress dip under his brother's weight as he moved to sit on the bet with him and support his weight from behind.

"You're hyperventilating, Wolfram. Relax and slow your breathing."

"Try...ing..."

Gisela leaned in from the other side of the bed - he hadn't even seen her enter the room - and pressed a bag made of a tight-weave cloth over his mouth and nose. "Breathe through this."

Wolfram obeyed, using one hand to help hold it in place and the other holding tight to the hand Conrart offered. Gisela began rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"Easy now," her soothing voice ghosted over his ear. "Inhale as slowly as you can, hold it as long as possible, then exhale slowly. Don't rush. Take it at your own pace. We'll wait."

The bag inflated and deflated rapidly with each panicked inhalation. Wolfram closed his eyes to better master himself and the panic that had overwhelmed him in the wake of the memory. Gradually the strain on his lungs eased and he began to breathe more normally. Conrart shifted away from him enough to allow his free hand to replace Gisela's on his back.

Her warm fingers pressed his throat then shifted to feel his stomach for any muscle tension. "That's right, easy, Wolfram," the healer soothed him. "You're heart rate's getting back to normal and there's no trace of renewed contractions. It's alright."

The softened voice betrayed a relief that equaled his own.

He heard a fast heavy tread and felt a large hand close on his knee through the blanket. No matter how many years passed, he'd know Gwendal's presence anywhere. Surrounded by the brothers and near-sister he'd known most of his life made him feel safe and that finally allowed his body to find peace again. He dropped the mask to caress his stomach. Thankfully his foolish reaction hadn't harmed his baby.

"What happened?" Wolfram heard Gwendal ask softly as he slumped in relief against Conrart who still held him secure.

Gisela reported while taking his pulse, "A panic attack. I'm not surprised. I've seen similar reactions in patients who were prisoners of war. Something as simple as a sound or a smell from that time in their lives can trigger them."

"Those men had been interrogated for weeks, some of them for months." Gwendal's brow twisted down into a familiar scowl. "Everything says Wolfram's been gone for much longer, yet only an hour at most went by. None of this makes sense!"

Wolfram gaped at them. "What do you mean an hour? It's been more than a year! A year and no one came!"

Conrart's arm across his shoulders tightened. "I swear to you on my honor and life, Wolfram, we pursued and brought you back the same night Hanreid took you."

He felt hard won color drain from his face. "That's impossible."

"Stay calm, Wolfram," Gisela urged, no doubt seeing signs of the new panic he felt rising. She waited for him to breathe through it before continuing, "It's true, despite all evidence that says it should be otherwise. Your brothers were on their way to rescue you as soon as I healed Yuuri Heika enough for him to tell us what happened to you."

Gwendal with a deepening frown half sat on the bed to meet his eyes on a more equal level. "We can only surmise that Hanreid somehow manipulated time to work his twisted scheme."

Wolfram shook his head, trying frantically to reorganize his thoughts and assumptions around this new truth. Just how powerful _was_ the sorcerer? With threats and taunts, Hanreid had demonstrated that his magic let the sorcerer reach and look into different places at will, but to do so through time? No one can do that.

But he must have.

"So he took me into the past, when no one knew to look for me. He wanted to be free to do as he wished without the danger of soldiers hunting for me interfering." Wolfram felt tears well in his eyes. "He made me think you had all abandoned me. He showed me how you had moved on without me, said that you had tried and failed to break the marriage and had accepted my fate." His head dropped to hide his shame and loss of control. He admitted to them, "I tried so hard to believe he lied, but you never came. In the end, my strength and will failed me and I let him take my hope along with everything else."

He didn't realize Gwendal had moved until his much larger hands engulfed his free one, making a chain between the brothers with him the center link.

"Hanreid has made an art of manipulation and deceit. He has taken lies as his mother and hate as his father." Gentle fingers lifted his chin until he looked into intense blue eyes. "No one blames you, do not blame yourself. You are not weak. You have dishonored no one. And if we must, we will prove that to the entire world!"

How? He didn't ask it aloud because his brothers were trying so hard to give him back his hope, and he loved them enough to let them believe they had.

"That in mind, I have need of Yosak for a little while. Conrart, would you take over his duties and send him to my office?"

"Of course, Brother."

Wolfram held tight when they started to pull away. "You're going to confront Hanreid, aren't you?"

"Geika has brought news from the temple that we will use to counter his threats. This is just the beginning of our offensive." Gwendal smoothed the hair away from his eyes. "Rest now, Wolfram. Leave everything to us for now. I promise you, Hanreid will not hurt you again."

Wolfram let go of their hands with a deep reluctance. Their looks and, in the case of Conrart, smile of reassurance didn't help the feeling that they'd never have such a moment again. Still, Gwendal's advice agreed with his body's demands. The adrenaline of the last minutes had burned off and his eyelids weighed like lead; sleep demanded it's due.

Gisela tugged his pillows into a more comfortable mound and eased him back. "Listen to your brother and sleep. You'll wake rested and ready for whatever news they bring. And we have to have a talk as well."

He didn't think she'd meant him to overhear that last bit. Too weary to fight his way back to ask questions, Wolfram let it go and sank into a deep, dark sleep.

-o0O0o-

Time passed. Servants came with a modest but savory midday meal and went without a word, returned to take the dishes and leftovers away in the same silence. Their glances revealed that they suspected just how unwelcome these guests were but didn't know the details.

Hanreid was still bored.

He couldn't tease them with hints or taunt them without upsetting his own plans. He'd long ago gone through every drawer and box. That exploration revealed a deck of playing cards that he'd eventually taken up for a long run of Solitaire. By the nineteenth hand, the thought of wandering the castle just to make them search for him when the summons finally came had gained in appeal.

"Your Lordship," the soldier, an officer in Voltaire's command, stood like stone in the open doorway. "I am to escort you to your meeting with His Majesty."

"Of course."

Hanreid glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. He'd won the bet, the sorcerer having wagered on three hours while he backed two. He held out his hand, palm up, and the magic wielder placed a gold coin there.

"Well," he pushed to his feet and told his escort, "Let's not keep the king waiting."

As he followed the guardsman down the corridors of Blood Pledge Castle, Hanreid's lips sported a quirky twist of satisfaction. He was taking him by a circuitous route, to avoid the chaos of the invited guests still arriving in the courtyard and main hallways according to his escort. More likely, he'd been ordered to keep him away from the Aristocrats and the other nobility.

They feared his influence on them, a very good sign indeed.

Hanreid's confidence soared by the time they reached von Voltaire's office. The guard knocked. With Yuuri's light "Come in," he opened the door and stepped aside to allow Hanreid entry.

Hanreid did so, his anticipation high.

To no surprise, he faced the same tableau as before: the boy king seated at von Voltaire's desk, the man himself and the lavender-haired von Christ arrayed behind him. The addition of the boy everyone called the Wise Man was to be expected. He leaned against the left wall, watching with serious face and intrigued eyes. The shadows there both enhanced the mystique he'd build around himself and put him beyond Hanreid's peripheral vision once he sat in the chair waiting for him. They effectively split his attention, a nice but useless tactic that changed nothing.

As he moved forward, Hanreid picked up movement to his right as well. He casually turned his head in that direction to see a different guard, a red-haired man with a powerful build and a dead serious gaze watching his entry, unblinking. He moved to block the doorway.

This he had _not_ anticipated.

"A bodyguard?" He turned to face Yuuri and let condescension taint his tone and expression. "Is that really necessary?"

The young king said nothing. With a shrug, Hanreid made his way to the chair and sat without waiting for his liege's permission or the customary greeting. No one twitched. They were up to something.

"You've had time to consider my offer," he opened, more wary than he'd thought necessary when he left for this meeting. "I hope you have come to the right decision for our Wolfram's sake."

Everyone remained stone faced except Yuuri, whose eyebrows lifted before he pushed the contract and its attachments toward him across the polished but worn surface of the desk with the tips of his fingers, as if they were contaminated with filth. He withdrew his hand quickly when Hanreid reached for them to avoid touching him.

Hanreid picked it up, keeping his eyes Yuuri. He'd be the one to betray signs of what was going on.

He glanced down at the signature line and locked his smile in place. "You haven't signed yet. Perhaps I have erred in my assessment of your counselors' legal prowess. Do you wish me to explain a point or two of law first?"

"No explanation is necessary," Yuuri told him in a voice stripped of emotion. "And I will not be signing this."

Hanreid shrugged and got to his feet. "Then I am leaving with my husband."

Yuuri stood with him. Though Hanreid towered over the boy by nearly two heads, he remained composed.

Oh, yes. They had something.

"You may go as you please, no one will stop you. In fact, we can put the rooms you occupy to better use. Wolfram remains here."

He chuckled with disdain at his naivety. "You cannot prevent me from taking him. Wolfram is mine by tribute bond." He shot hard glares at the two Aristocrats. "If those two have not told you so, then I strongly suggest you find wiser men to counsel you."

"Oh, I am most wisely counseled in this situation. Until the baby is born, paternity – and the legitimacy of your so-called marriage – cannot be proven. While we wait for that event, the tribute bond is suspended. You will have no contact with Wolfram whatsoever. If you try to take wolfram away, I will charge you with kidnapping and endangering the unborn. Do you wish me to explain further?"

Hanreid felt his composure slipping and paused to master himself before speaking again. "I am the father. Wolfram came to our marriage bed pristine. No man knew him before me. Mine is the only seed the child could have sprung from. I have provided you with signed testaments to these facts. At best, all you buy is a few days' delay." His voice deepened with his irritation at this useless defiance. "I guarantee the terms will change between now and the birth, in ways you will like even less than these."

Dark hair flopped with the force of Yuuri's nod. "So be it. I'd rather risk that than the lives of Wolfram and his baby. I have to wonder at the depth of your devotion that you would."

Hanreid eyed the boy with open calculation. He spoke with too much maturity and consideration. His advisors must have coached him for this meeting for hours. He was still young to the cutthroat arena of political negotiations though. He didn't successfully mask his reactions. Hanreid noted increasing tension in his hands, the rigidity of his posture. The little king probably fought the urge to look back over his shoulder to confirm with his advisors that he was doing right.

"And after my son is born, what do you plan to do? Bring his paternity before the courts?" he snorted. "You claim to care so much for my wolf cub, yet you'd shame him so deeply and irrevocably?" Hanreid picked up the contract and held it out to Yuuri. "Count the cost of your desperation and think again. Sign it. Heika."

He deliberately delayed addressing him by his title and put just enough sarcasm into the one word to make it an insult. He hoped to push Yuuri over the edge, but he didn't take the bait. Apparently, new to Shin Makoku, Yuuri didn't have the experience to recognize the insult he'd given on an emotional level. The others in the room did, however, and that caused a smile to twitch the corner of his mouth.

Yuuri ignored the paper he held out and met him gaze to gaze, his black eyes hard. "I have thought most carefully, Lord von Hanreid, and follow my advisers' counsel in this matter. When the time comes, I will face you before the Aristocrats and let them decide Wolfram's status based on the evidence."

The Aristocrats and not a Shin Makoku court where all proceedings and rulings must be made public.

"Two of whom stand in this room, two others who have familial ties to my husband. You hope to weigh the decision in your favor from the start." His single derisive laugh said it all. "Your thinking is flawed. They cannot let that relationship influence their decision. Even if they let their hearts guide them, I would challenge the ruling. Very publicly, I promise you."

"I understand that," Yuuri responded far too calmly, with too much confidence. "This audience is ended. If you do intend on leaving Blood Pledge Castle today, please inform our staff so they can prepare the rooms for the invited guests you displaced on your arrival."

Hanreid stood still, resisting the urge to retaliate physically at the casual dismissal, as if he were some peon petitioner come begging for a royal favor. He wanted to fling the contract in Yuuri's face, march out of the room and into the infirmary, snatch up his husband and unborn son, and never allow them to see either again. Oh, that would be sweet. But he refused to throw away decades of maneuvering. Oh, he had alternative plans if necessary, but this plan gave him the best outcome – vengeance, the throne, and Wolfram all in one neat package.

He remained outwardly calm and unperturbed by the refusal to sign the contract. He lowered his arm to replace it on the stack of papers and pushed it all back in Yuuri's direction.

"Reconsider your decision carefully and sign while you have the chance," he told Yuuri in the soft hiss of a serpent coiled to strike, "or be certain that the day Wolfram gives birth will be the last you see of him."

Hanreid spun on his heal and left the office as if he were still master of the situation. He kept his expression and stride calm, knowing full well that his escort would report his every action to his masters. Upon reaching his rooms, Hanreid whirled on him.

"My servant and I will be dining privately. See that a decent repast is brought up within the hour."

He shut the door in his face before the guard finished the obligatory "Yes, my Lord."

Inside, the sorcerer sat calmly reading by the compact fireplace. Hanreid stalked closer, snarled and yanked the book from his hand. _Folklore and Myths of the Golden Age of Shin Makoku_. Odd, he'd never have pegged him as a recreational reader. With a barely audible growl, he flung the tome across the room where it crashed into the stone wall and flopped to the floor.

Used to his fits of temper, the spellcaster simply rose to retrieve the musty thing. After a careful examination while Hanreid paced from door to hearth and back in barely suppressed fury, the other man found his place and carefully placed the book face down in the seat he'd vacated.

"That book is over 600 years old. It must have a preservation spell on it. Otherwise, you'd owe a great deal of coin to the curator of the castle library."

The sorcerer always spoke in a quiet voice. Mindful of the guards outside in the corridor, Hanreid kept his own low.

"It should be mind to do with as I please by now!"

"I take it the meeting did not go as planned," he responded out of that ever-present control.

Sometimes Hanreid wanted to strangle the man, just to see if he'd lose it. Still, he needed him this way, especially when his own emotional state clouded his thinking.

"No. Yuuri didn't sign the contract. Ridiculous as it sounds, Voltaire's got him to challenge the baby's paternity. They actually intend to wait for the birth, as if that will prove I am not the father."

"We encompassed that when we reviewed the possible scenarios for this second encounter." Keeping out of his way as he continued to stalk back and forth, his sorcerer told him. "All that's left for them is to protect young Wolfram in the only way left to them for as long as they can." The robed shoulders lifted in an eloquent shrug. "It changes nothing."

The pacing helped Hanreid to grow calmer as he burned off the adrenalin surge brought on by his enemies' defiance when he expected certain of victory.

"I suppose I will concede for now and let them. Our proof will only have power when it's brought before the courts. I'd rather people believe the child is Yuuri's blood heir. It will make his ascension to the throne much smoother than it would be if the people think he is none of the Maoh's line."

He heard the smile in the thin man's voice. "You have won the gambit, my Lord, with but a few moves left to checkmate."

Hanreid stopped in front of the fireplace to let his mind fully focus on the words spoken in that office and his conscious and subconscious impressions.

"Yes, protecting Wolfram from me for as long as possible is part of it," he muttered aloud as his mind whirred, "but not all. In none of those scenarios did they risk calling my bluff and exposing Wolfram to public scrutiny. They must have come up with something we missed." He pressed his fingers into the mantle and stared down into the flames, his wolf cub's element. Heat from the fire washed over his face and soaked through the wool of his suit. "I'm certain they had nothing this morning. Whatever it is must have been the fruit of that trip to Shinou's temple. Find out what they learned."

"Even if I had recovered my full strength from the efforts of the last months," the sorcerer stated his excuses so damned calmly, "my magic cannot pierce the protections surrounding the temple, and Lord Wolfram's brothers and friends no doubt suspect our spying because they never speak out of turn where I can overhear them."

Hanreid raised a fist and brought it down on the smooth granite stone beneath his hands. He would not have this! Wolfram was his, this kingdom was his. He was not going to lose, not now or ever!

A knock at the door and a woman's voice announced, "We've brought your dinner, Lord von Hanreid."

He hissed at the sorcerer who – what nerve! – had picked up his precious book to resume reading, "Do whatever you have to and get me that information! I won't be cheated out of my triumph."

"As you command, my Lord."

With a glance around the room to confirm no sign of his earlier pique showed for the servants to report, Hanreid called out.

"Enter."

A maid with short red hair came inside with a large tray of covered dishes that she wielded with the expertise of long experience. She quickly set up a buffet-style repast on the side table against the wall. With a shallow curtsey, she left just as quickly and the ever-present security detail closed the door once more.

None of them noticed the sorcerer ghosting out in her wake. That was a trick he wouldn't mind learning himself, Hanreid smirked as he approached his meal, drawn by the delicious enticing smells. He served up a generous plate, another glass of wine, and settled in the chair by the hearth to await the sorcerer's return.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Mistress Schooley is named after a teacher I had in grade school who encouraged my love of books. Because of her I read classics like __Great Expectations__ and __The Lottery Rose__. I will always be grateful to Mrs. Schooley for that._

_Thanks again for reading! Please review, your feedback is welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Wolfram goes into labor. Be here for __**Chapter 14: The Moment of Truth.**_


	14. The Moment of Truth

Rating: M

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thank you so much for your patience with me. It's been a long time since I last posted, but I have not abandoned this tale. Your reviews, likes, and follows have been a wonderful incentive for me._

_I discovered I'd written myself into a logic corner in the middle of typing this chapter and it took me a while to write my way out, all in the time my daily life's obligations didn't take up. I'll be posting two chapters in quick succession. Please enjoy and watch for the next chapter in about a week. Merry Belated Christmas!_

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 14: The Moment of Truth**

Yuuri sucked in what felt like his first real breath since Hanreid entered the room.

"How'd I do?"

"You were perfect, Your Majesty," Gunter told him, distracted pride in his voice. "You remained composed and gave him only what we wanted him to have."

Gwendal added, "Oh, he knows we're up to something, but Hanreid's need for control borders on madness. Until he knows exactly what that is and devises a counter move, he will not act."

Yosak patted his chest where he'd tucked the imperial order they'd composed before sending for Hanreid. It gave him the authority to access the books at the Recorder's office in Hanreid's district. "I'm heading out. Changing horses at the way stations, I'll be able to get there and back before the end of the celebrations. All this activity makes for great cover for my comings and goings." He aimed his question at Gwendal, "Shall I send word by dove?"

"No. Too many of our guests will be availing themselves of the service during their stay. I won't take a chance on the message going astray."

The tall redhead saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Yuuri touched his arm as he passed by. "Safe journey."

The perpetually joking spy returned with a solemn promise. "Try not to fret too much, young man. We'll get Little Lord Brat and his babe out of this yet."

And he was gone.

Yuuri dragged his hands down his face to try and wipe away the fatigue dragging at him. "Speaking of the celebrations, Wolfram is supposed to be my escort. How are we going to explain his absence to everyone? Tell them that he's sick? Won't his Uncle Waltorana insist on seeing him?"

Coming to the desk from his sideline position, Murata suggested, "We can make it something that requires isolation, something contagious like the spotted fever."

The two older men nodded and by their expressions, Yuuri guessed it was a good idea.

"Perfect," Gunter confirmed with a nod. "Not even close family will risk exposure, especially in a crowded situation that's ripe to allow person-to-person contamination with the potential to reach across the world when all the guests move on."

Yuuri had never heard of the spotted fever. In fact, except for injuries, everyone he knew in Shin Makoku was so healthy that the possibility of sickness had never occurred to him. "What's spotted fever?"

"It's a variation of measles." Murata perched on the edge of the desk. "Our two worlds share a lot of things, being parallel. But here it's much more virulent because vaccines don't exist in Shin Makoku and the disease is resistant to healing magic. Spotted fever can devastate entire cities and worse if it isn't contained in time by isolating the sick until they recover. No one will take a chance on getting too close to Wolfram if we tell people we suspect he was exposed to the fever and have him in isolation for the incubation period."

That would work. Later, when everything settled down, he'd talk with Murata and Gisela and see if there was any way to duplicate more of Earth's medical knowledge here.

"Okay, that's settled. Where do we go from here?"

Gwendal strode to the window and stared out at the ruckus in the courtyard below. "We prepare the formal paternity challenge and the missive to send to the other Aristocrats requesting an emergency session with doves ready to fly if necessary the instant we know with certainty that the child isn't yours. If, gods grant, you truly are the father, we begin legal proceedings against Hanreid for his crimes."

"Meanwhile, I will deal with our guests and inform our staff what to tell anyone who asks why Wolfram is absent from the proceedings," Gunter volunteered. "Gwendal, shall I join you here after dinner tonight of go over everything?"

"I'd appreciate a second eye, thank you."

Oh, lovely. Even more hours trying to understand documents he didn't know enough of the Shin Makoku written language to read. Yuuri held up his hand. "Do you really need me for that? I promised Wolfram I'd spent time with him tonight. He's probably wondering what's taking me so long."

"Go on with you, but I will need to go over the final versions of the documents with you before you sign, so plan on being in my office first thing in the morning."

"I will, promise, thanks!" Yuuri practically leaped out of the chair and sprinted for the door and freedom.

"Yuuri."

Gwendal so rarely called him by his first name. It sounded odd to him. Yuuri halted his escape and turned back. "Yes, Gwendal?"

"Give Wolfram my regrets and tell him I will visit as soon as I can tonight."

"Sure. See you then."

Murata followed him out into the hall and walked beside him. He caught his elbow when Yuuri started for the main staircase. "Don't. Follow me. There are ways to the infirmary that gets us there without attracting attention."

"Good idea. Everyone would want to say hi and ask questions and try to arrange private meetings and... We'd never get clear."

Murata's "ways" turned out to be not so much hidden as unnoticed passageways. A footman carrying boots in need of polishing under one arm rushed by, with a quick, wide-eyed bow when he realized who shared the narrow corridor with him.

A reminiscing expression passed over Murata's face that meant he was recalling something from one of his previous lifetimes. "These halls were built into the castle's design to allow for easier liaisons between secret lovers. Of course nowadays the maids and other servants use them to go about their duties. They make nice shortcuts for moving heavy trays around the place without running into people."

Yuuri nodded, seeing how convenient that could be, but he had to wonder at the mindset of the people who drew up the plans for Blood Pledge Castle, not to mention how Murata came to know about it. That had to be an interesting story.

"One thing I don't get. The first wave of guests saw Wolfram with me at the reception. How does Hanreid plan to explain a baby born only a few days after that?"

The other boy pressed himself up against the wall and Yuuri did the same barely in time as Lasagna ran passed them with her arms full of a basket overflowing with bed linens. He heard her "Heika, Geika" greeting and she vanished around the bend. Murata waited until they no longer heard her heels clipping on the stone floor to answer.

"Based on his demands, Hanreid wants the people to believe his child is yours. My guess is he plans to 'graciously' offer his estate for your honeymoon and keep you there long enough that no one will be surprised when you return with a baby heir. Mazoku infants don't change much outwardly in their first years so it won't raise suspicions."

"So he has as strong a motive as we do to keep Wolfram's pregnancy secret for now."

Murata nodded, "It's why, even though he threatens us with taking this whole mess before the courts if we don't bend to his demands, we're safe calling his bluff. He'll follow through only as an absolutely last resort. Hanreid wants the veneer of legitimacy on his eventual takeover."

Yuuri knew evil existed in the world. He'd experienced it first hand on a level so intimate only a few people thankfully had shared that dubious honor. He'd never met someone so...deliberate and ruthless as Hanreid.

Back on Earth when someone did something awful, people always asked "Why?" What events in his or her life caused the perpetrator to be this way, to do such a thing? The answer didn't really make any difference, he realized. If terrible things in a person's life was the only reason they committed terrible acts, both his worlds would be full to the brim with evil people. He thought of Conrart and Yosak. They'd been through awful experiences, had been sent out to die by military officers who placed less value on their lives just because they were half-bloods. Yet neither man let those things warp them.

It all came down to character. Our choices in life, big and small, come from the quality of our inner selves. Circumstances might make one option more appealing than another, but we choose.

Hanreid chose this path. If...no, when... they stopped this plot, Yuuri had no doubt he'd come up with something else. He would always be a danger to his kingdom, his people, to everyone he loved here.

"You're looking awfully serious all of a sudden, Shibuya." Murata's cautious tone more than his words broke his train of thought. "What's on your mind that can possibly make all of this worse?"

And Yuuri welcomed the interruption. His mind had taken up a thread he wasn't ready to follow to its conclusion. He hoped he'd never have to. But he was a king in a world where violence was often the first rather than the last resort. He was, amazingly, about to be the father of two children who'd depend on him to keep them safe. Wolfram was right, he realized, to call him a wimp when he first came to Shin Makoku. Up until now he'd been a kid playing at being adult for a few days, always retreating to Earth and childhood again.

Well, ready or not, time for him to grow up.

"Shibuya?"

Yuuri shook his head as if that might clear the heavy thoughts away. "You know that saying about life being a series of choices? I never really understood that until just now."

"Well, think about something more cheerful before we go in. Wolfram reads you like a Dick and Jane book."

Go in? He took in their surroundings and realized they stood outside the infirmary. He'd traversed the castle without even knowing it.

Murata grinned from ear to ear when he turned back to him. "You were totally zoned. But your feet went where I led so it's okay. Nobody paid any attention. People expect their leaders to be heavy thinkers." A teasing light brightened the black eyes behind the round lenses of his glasses. "Who knows? You might have upped your rep a point or two. Now smile!"

With a bracing inhale, Yuuri did just that and lead the way to Wolfram's room. They found him awake and sitting up, talking softly with his mother, his left hand clasped between hers where she leaned in with forearms draped on the mattress. They both looked up as he knocked and he had to smile at the sight. Despite Wolfram's thinned face and pallor, the resemblance between them had never been so striking.

"Hello, boys!" Lady Celi enthusiastically waved. "Isn't Gwendal with you?"

"He has some work to finish before he can get away," Yuuri told the pair. "He asked me to apologize for him."

"All things considered, it's understandable. Never mind, hurry over now, we're discussing the redecoration of the nursery. As the father, Yuuri, you must have a say. My Wolvie is certain my first grandchild is going to be a girl. I'm thinking a rainbow of pastels and pale ivory lace to start. Several of the seamstresses I've given business to would be perfect for the task."

"Mother..."

"Now, now, Wolfram. You focus on your health and my grandbaby. Leave the rest to me." She lovingly patted his cheek before giving up her place so Yuuri could sit next to him. Celi breezed out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "I'll see if I can bring some swatches... No, this will be my surprise birth gift. And I need to start cultivating her flower..."

"Surprise? Mother, I..."

Wolfram's second attempt to interject an opinion didn't even fall on deaf ears. The lady in question was already gone.

The three of them, left speechless by that unique woman's talent to flabbergast, just stared at each other for a moment. Murata broke the silence.

"A former Maoh's force of purpose turned to interior decorating? I'm almost afraid to see what she'll come up with."

The corner of Wolfram's mouth twitched with the smile he fought to restrain. Yuuri didn't bother. He like seeing her back to her normal enthusiastic self and how that cheered his fiancé enough to inspire that smile.

"If it's too much," he sat down, "we'll fix it." Based on some of the over-the-top outfits he'd seen Lady Celi wear over the years, they might have reason to fear the results.

"It's not that, Yuuri." Wolfram sounded sad. "Mother's trying so hard to make things normal for me. I just don't want her to be disappointed."

"Why should she be disappointed?"

Yuuri saw Wolfram hesitate then stiffen with resolve or maybe resignation was a better word for what he sensed in him. "Hanreid takes pleasure in quenching every good thing around me, and he will never stop. Normal has nothing to do with my life anymore."

He leaned forward to squeeze Wolfram's hand in comfort, holding tight when he tried to pull away. "Don't give up, Wolfram. We just met with Hanreid and made sure he can't come near you until the baby's born. That's just the first step. We're going to save you and the baby."

"You can't, Yuuri, at least not me. No." His free hand rose palm facing him in a gesture that cut off Yuuri's protest. "I need you to listen to me. Please. This is hard enough."

"Okay, I'm listening," he told him, the twist in his gut telling him he wasn't going to like what he heard.

A cleared throat interrupted. He looked over his shoulder to see Murata backing out of the room. "You guys want some privacy for this. I'll go talk with Gisela for a few minutes. Call out when you're done."

Once they were alone, Wolfram began again. "I know everyone's doing all they can to break Hanreid's hold on me and, believe me, I don't want you to stop. But I need to face facts and so do you. Gisela told me the baby might really be ours." This time his smile actually reached his eyes, the first to do so since his rescue. It practically lit the room. "If I tried to say how happy that makes me, I'd sound like a babbling idiot. Hanreid wants an heir he controls on the throne of Shin Makoku. That this baby might actually be your true heir makes it all the more urgent to keep her out of his hands. And there is a way to do that." Wolfram took a deep breath, braced himself, and finished, "You have to denounce me."

"What?!"

Wolfram switched their grip so now he held on to Yuuri's arm and kept him from leaping to his feet in outrage as everything in him wanted to do. The other boy rushed on. "Claim I proved unfaithful. Say I'm carrying another man's child. To Hanreid, the baby is a key to the throne of Shin Makoku and I'm the way he gets that key. Without legal ties to you, we lose all value to him. Hanreid won't have any use for us. He'll let us go."

Yuuri had to wonder if Wolfram really believed that. He'd seen the look in Hanreid's eyes when they took Wolfram away from him the night he nearly lost the baby. Throne or no throne, he had no intention of giving Wolfram his freedom.

"If I do that," he asked all the while seething at just the idea of doing something so cruel to his friend, "what happens to you?"

The golden head bowed so he couldn't see into his eyes. "I'd live in seclusion on the Bielefeld estates. My uncle would be named guardian of my baby so any stigma I'd bear wouldn't burden her future."

'Half truths,' the Maoh spirit broke his long silence though he did not rise up. 'If he acts before the birth and names his uncle guardian, the child would be safe from Hanreid, but our Wolfram neglects to tell you that he will be shunned by all levels of Shin Makoku society for the rest of his life. Nor would he go to his lands. Wolfram is basically chattel in this marriage; he must be returned to Hanreid if the man demands it.'

And Yuuri knew he would, without a doubt.

"It's never coming to that. We've found evidence that Hanreid forced you into this marriage that will stand up in the courts. Even if that doesn't work, we have a Plan B that will." And he wasn't saying any more unless he absolutely had to. If he had his way, Wolfram would never know that anyone knew what he'd endured during his captivity.

Yuuri rose from the chair to perch on the edge of the bed and gather both of Wolfram's hands in his. "The idea of being a father to a baby scares me, but not as much as losing you to Hanreid does. So we're going to win, hear me? And we will raise this baby and Greta together."

He watched Wolfram's expression twist as he tried to push away what he must think was a dangerous dream. "Even if you can thwart Hanreid, we won't be allowed to stay together. In the eyes of the law, I am no longer acceptable as your consort. I'm soiled goods, Yuuri."

"No you're not! Hanreid hurt you but he didn't dirty you. I'll tell you that over and over again, as many times as it takes for you to believe it. As for the law," Yuuri added, trying to sound both at ease and serious, "I'm the Maoh. I can change the law."

Wolfram bit his lip. "A law won't change the way people will look at me once they know."

"No. We'll do that. You and me," he leaned carefully forward until their foreheads met, "together."

Wolfram closed his eyes and nodded. Yuuri knew he didn't believe him yet. Hanreid's dark shadow had eclipsed his spirit for too long for him to trust in hope easily. He vowed that one day he would.

Light filled the room for a second and left him blinking. Standing in the doorway, Murata stared down at his Smartphone, nodding in satisfaction at what he saw.

Yuuri gaped at him. "How did you even get that here without the water ruining it?"

His friend winked, "After our first couple of soggy trips here, I started carrying my phone and wallet in a water-tight container. I get funny looks in stores and such, but it's worth it. Want to see?"

Murata crossed to the bed and held out his phone so he and Wolfram could look at the screen. The display showed them cuddled on the bed. It was...sweet.

"Remember the pictures Mama Shibuya showed you when you visited Earth? This is how we make them."

Wolfram touched his thinned face. "I look terrible," he complained though he was obviously fascinated by the technology.

"The flash makes everything look stark. Here's one without it."

He slid a finger across the screen to the previous shot. Wolfram's brows lifted and he exchanged looks with Murata before examining the photo. It really was kinder. The shadows under his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks had been muted by the natural lighting.

"May I?"

Murata handed him the phone. "Brush your finger along the surface to go from shot to shot. Do this," he demonstrated with thumb and finger in the air, "to get a closer look."

Wolfram began experimenting, losing the expression that hurt Yuuri to see on his face. "Can you get the picture out?"

"Not here. I wonder." Murata took the phone back and set his fingers flying. "Nope. I tried emailing it to my account on Earth. Can't reach the server. That would have been useful if it worked."

"What is this 'emailing'? How would we use it?"

Wolfram's question reminded Yuuri that during their visit to Earth, they'd had no time to really explore all the marvels of technology.

"It's our version of long-distance communication, only without birds." He held out his hand and Murata placed the device in his palm. "I don't know exactly how it works, but you type a message with this," Yuuri opened the keyboard, "and it travels to the person you sent it to practically in the same second. Even if I had a phone to call Murata's with, I doubt it would work in this world."

Wolfram reached over and took the phone back, touched random keys, and watched the corresponding characters appear in the display. "We ought to show this to Anissina. She might be able to invent something similar that we can use here. Imagine if our patrols had instant communication with each and their commanders."

Murata darted forward with a horrified expression on his face and rescued his phone. "No way are you giving Lady von Karbelnikoff my Smartphone. I'd never see it again except in pieces. I'll see if I can't pick up a burner phone for her next time we go back that she can experiment on to her heart's content."

"As you surmised, Anissina is likely to destroy the Smartphone figuring out how it works." Wolfram leaned back into the pillows. "You'd best bring more than one."

"I doubt she'll learn much," Murata said as he pocketed his phone, "but I take your point. Maybe I can get a bulk discount somewhere."

A cleared throat followed by a "Pardon me, Your Majesty," pulled all eyes to the doorway. One of Gisela's two remaining assistants, Warin, stood there and bowed at the waist when he had their attention.

"Excuse the interruption, but Lady Gisela left instructions to ensure that Lord von Bielefeld rested this afternoon."

Yuuri turned to Wolfram, "And we're keeping you awake. Sorry, we'll go right now."

A thin hand closed around his wrist before he got to his feet. "Stay?" Wolfram asked. "I don't feel sleepy at all right now. It will help me to drift off if I have company."

"Go ahead and stay, Shibuya." His other friend urged him. "As the Great Wise Man, I can greet your guests until you arrive. Just don't take too long, you are the man of the hour after all."

Wolfram's eyes went wide. "The celebrations, the loyalty oaths! I completely forgot they hadn't taken place yet."

"Well, you have had other things on your mind," Yuuri tried to joke.

Wolfram ignored him or more likely was so wrapped up in the realization he didn't register his words. "I'm supposed to be there with you. As your fiancé, I have duties to perform. People are going to ask questions. Gods, Uncle Waltorana is attending. He'll insist on seeing me…!"

"It's okay, Wolf. We're saying that you've been exposed to something that might be contagious so we're keeping you isolated. It won't be a hard sell. A lot of people saw us ride full speed through town with you and take you straight to Gisela. Gwendal and Gunter are handling all the details for tonight."

"And don't worry about Shibuya making any mistakes. I'll stick to him like glue in case he needs a hint or two on protocol," Murata promised with a wink as he walked out.

Yuuri gave out an exaggerated sigh before settling more comfortably in his chair. "So. What do you want to talk about?"

Wolfram eased onto his side facing him, one arm curled under his head, the other wrapped around his stomach. "Tell me about the plans for tonight. Who's arrived so far?"

And that's what he did, until Wolfram drifted off into quiet sleep.

-o0O0o-

"Well?"

"The gossip is all of Lord von Bielefeld's surprising collapse in town and the commandeering of a honeymoon carriage to sweep him off to the healers," the sorcerer reported. "Everyone has taken Yuuri Heika's mad dash on his horse through the streets as evidence of his true feelings for his fiancé. Loudest of the voices spurring that version of the facts is the bride whose lost romantic ride under a midnight moon has made her the center of attention of gentry who no doubt would ignore her under any other circumstance."

Hanreid nodded as he went through his wardrobe. "Is anyone talking about the pregnancy?"

"I heard no hint of it. Von Voltaire is keeping an amazingly tight lid on that fact."

Naked from the waist up, Hanreid debated the tunic he would wear with the dark gray leggings and matching boots when he crashed the second night of the celebrations, a formal reception for the ambassadors and Shin Makoku nobility. He wanted to impress on everyone who saw him his wealth while hinting just a little of his coming change in status.

"Good to know the staff here can keep their mouths shut. Anything new on Voltaire's plans?

The cowl swayed in the negative. "Unfortunately, no. Whatever they're up to isn't being discussed outside their inner circle or where I could penetrate close enough to overhear. Several couriers have ridden out, but with the festivities in full swing and the dignitaries sending messages back and forth, that's to be expected."

He'd narrowed his choice to two garments, one red as spilled blood and the other a blue to match his wolf cub's military uniform. He'd had these made special some time ago. His agents had brought him word of a weaver who had developed a process that wove two different colors of thread in such a way that when the wearer moved, the garment seemed to shift from one color to the other. They'd cost him dearly not just because the process itself took a long, painstaking time, but for the black thread he had insisted be used as the second color in each. The woman had walked away from the deal with enough gold to retire in a friendly human territory far from potential fallout.

"So it's likely they sent a trusted retainer off to bring back something they hope will stop me." A smirk twisted his lips, "They must be running desperate to waste time so foolishly."

Still, a part of his mind wondered, what inspired the desperate play they'd come up with? He knew without a doubt that nothing waited out there for them to use against him. He'd taken special care in seeing to that. So what were they after?

Chagrined that Voltaire had caused him to think such ridiculous thoughts, Hanreid impulsively chose the blue. While the other guests at the buffet reception complimented the tailoring and the quality of the obviously expensive suit, those he meant to know would get his message and seethe. He donned the painstakingly fitted garment and surveyed himself in the room's only mirror. Perfect, he cut quite the dashing figure. He'd have to limit what he ate and drank, so closely did the seamstress sheath his impressive physique.

He lifted his hand as if raising a toast and noted with satisfaction the ripple of black that settled back to blue so swiftly witnesses would wonder if they had imagined it. Every little movement triggered the flash of secret black in the weave. He'd definitely achieve his goal to draw attention away from the boy of the hour whenever anyone caught the unexpected flash of darkness out of the corner of their eye.

"Shall I accompany you, My Lord?"

Hanreid smoothed a hand down the front of his tunic before adding the final touch to his ensemble – a decorative belt and dagger that held a few surprises if the need ever arose. "No. Spy about more and see if you can learn anything new," he told his servant. "Don't waste your magic though, continue to use mundane methods. I want you to have enough reserves to open a portal should the need arise."

"As you will, Lord von Hanreid."

One last check in the mirror and Hanreid turned to his companion with a broad smile.

"It's time to play fox amongst the pigeons."

-o0O0o-

"It is good to have you home again, Majesty. Governance of Shin Makoku has missed your, shall we say, more restrained touch."

"Thank you, Lord Marberry," Yuuri replied to the obvious flattery, "but I'm certain my advisors did a fine job in my absence, otherwise Shin Makoku would not have been in such great shape when I got back."

The nobleman following him as he strolled around the perimeter of the ballroom with Greta and Murata never ceased spouting off the same nonsense arguments he'd been making practically from their introduction.

"True, true, to a point. But I'm sure if _you_ had heard my petition regarding the unfair trading practices of the human coastal countries – they undercut my prices for saltwater fish shamefully – that my tariff proposals would have passed unanimously. By chance I have the proposal with me..."

Murata interrupted before Yuuri disgraced his position by rolling his eyes. "Lord Marberry, tonight is a time of celebration, not negotiations. I suggest that you go through channels again – after you act on the suggestions I am sure that the official who presided over your original hearing gave you."

The high-boned cheeks of the taller man flushed deep red. "Geika, those suggestions were unreasonable, untenable, and too crass to repeat in mixed company. I..."

"Oh, Daddy Yuuri, look! They've put out fresh pastries!" Greta grabbed his wrist in both hands and began pulling him toward the buffet table. "Let's make a plate up for Papa Wolfram and take them to him while they're still warm!"

"Alright, Greta, alright!" Yuuri gladly let his daughter lead him away from the boor. "Sorry, Lord Marberry, but our children come first, don't you agree? Perhaps we'll have a chance to talk later." Once they were out of earshot, he bent close and whispered, "Thanks!"

Behind them, Murata chuckled. "You're the Maoh, Shibuya. Tell the man to go suck eggs and he'll have to obey."

"That's totally against the protocol you're supposed to be making sure I don't violate," he admonished, though the image the words conjured went a long way to cheer him up.

His friend shrugged, "Sometimes we ought to have leeway to bend the rules a little, especially if it means not having to listen to drivel like that for another minute."

"What's drivel?" Greta asked and took a bite from the almond biscuit she'd chosen from the selection.

Murata reached for a treat of his own. "What does the context tell you it means?"

His sweet child's brow crinkled and she announced around her mouthful, "Crap."

"Greta!" He turned on his laughing companion. "What else have you been teaching my little girl?"

"I'm not that little." She picked up a plate and began filling it with cakes, cookies, and rolls that Yuuri knew were Wolfram's favorites.

"Don't forget the raspberry turnovers," he pointed to the special treat half hidden behind a pile of scones and with a coo of delight, Greta added two to her haul.

Murata nodded approval. "Now that will tempt anyone's appetite. Why don't you go along with your escort to Lord Wolfram's room? I just spotted someone your father needs to greet before we join you."

Yuuri moaned, not another one! "Okay, fine. Tell Wolfram I'll come as soon as I can get away."

"Alright. Don't be too long."

Yuuri watched his daughter walk carefully out of the ballroom with the plate firmly grasped in her two hands. She refused the offer of aide from a footman, gaining her approving and indulgent smiles from some of the guests close enough to witness. A few even asked her to pass on their well wishes to the ailing prince consort. The lie of Wolfram's sickness had spread fast. The illness Murata had chosen for his affliction couldn't be passed from human to Demon and vice versa so no one questioned her visit, and Gisela's orders limiting visits to immediate family effectively cut off well-meaning visits from friends in the human delegations.

He turned to Murata standing beside him with a smile fixed on his face staring across the ballroom. Yuuri followed his gaze but didn't see anything unusual. "So who is this person I absolutely have to meet tonight?"

"That," he said in a low and serious voice that didn't match his grin, "was a bit of white lie. We need to go to the gardens."

Curious, Yuuri went with him, weaving their way around the small clumps of conversing nobility with nods of acknowledgment for those not too engrossed in debate to notice his passage. When they reached the double glass doors, to his surprise Murata signaled over a guard in dress uniform and a very serviceable sword at his hip and ordered, "His Majesty and I need a few minutes of privacy. See to it would you?"

Once through the door and the guard in place, he asked, "What's going on, Murata?"

"A confrontation that shouldn't be happening and that Lord Weller won't be able to keep quiet much longer."

They walked quickly along the stone path but not fast enough to raise concerns if anyone happened to spot them through the windows. Several yards ahead by torchlight, he recognized the three men next to the fountain at the center of the garden. Conrad, very handsome in his dress uniform, had taken up a position to intervene if things came to blows. The other two men had faced off. One was tall and blond, Wolfram's uncle, and the other Hanreid who was _not_ supposed to be here at all. He wore a tunic that looked suspiciously familiar. Fury burned in his gut the second he recognized it as a copy of the uniform jacket his fiancé wore.

Yuuri wished he could run as soon as he was close enough to hear their words.

"...insult to my nephew!"

"It is not meant as such, Lord von Bielefeld. I hold young Wolfram in the highest esteem." The needling edge to Hanreid's oozing tone raised Yuuri's hackles and infuriated Wolfram's uncle.

Lord Waltorana von Bielefeld faced down the other man with equal parts outrage and disdain honed to an even harder edge. "Your actions say otherwise, _Sir_. I've heard that you make a habit of claiming what is not yours. You have no right to wear my nephew's colors. I will not have your name associated with his in any way!"

Hanreid had the nerve to grin. Waltorana's hand went to the decorative but very serviceable dagger at his waist. Conrad sent him a look that asked permission to act. Yuuri shook his head and stepped up to the two lords.

"Gentlemen, this is a celebration," Yuuri interjected into the escalating argument. "I prefer that nothing disturbs my guests. Lord von Bielefeld, I ask that you return to the party and leave this to me. Trust me to guard Wolfram's honor as I would my own."

Waltorana turned as if to argue but hesitated, examining Yuuri's face with a scrutiny that made him want to cringe away, but Yuuri knew that if Wolfram's uncle didn't believe him and continued this confrontation, Hanreid would tell him the truth out of spite and the need to hurt. So he stood his ground and kept his expression flat.

"Very well, Your Majesty. Geika. Lord Weller." He turned without acknowledging Hanreid to return to the ballroom.

Hanreid watched him walk away and his lips curved up as he met Yuuri's gaze. "Lord Waltorana von Bielefeld is a handsome man. Do you suppose my Wolfram will grow to look more like him or his mother?"

Yuuri didn't take the bait, instead asking in turn, "Do you make a habit of going where you have no right?"

"I decide where I go."

"Not here." Yuuri heard a deeper timbre beneath his own voice, the Maoh making himself known. Hanreid went very still like a predator realizing he just might be the prey. Yuuri allowed himself a small smile of his own. "Your presence is neither requested nor wanted here. Return to your rooms – unless you are taking me up on my offer of rooms in town?"

He saw the corners of the Hanreid's eyes tense as he stepped closer trying to use his stature to intimidate him. Yuuri thought again of Wolfram and what he wanted to do to the larger man. Deep inside, the Maoh stirred even more. Something must have shown in his eyes or face because Hanreid aborted his forward movement to give him a very stiff bow that was more of a nod and walked off.

Yuuri swayed slightly. Even a partial manifestation of the Maoh apparently took its toll. Murata steadied him by grabbing his elbow.

"Are you alright, Yuuri?"

"I'll be fine, Conrad. How did that happen?"

His godfather explained while watching their foe's leisurely progress out of the gardens. "Hanreid slipped into the ballroom somehow, acting as if he'd always been present. I saw the resemblance to Wolfram's uniform and saw other guests making note of it, in particular Lord Waltorana. I tried to escort Hanreid out discretely, but Wolfram's uncle followed us out. The rest you know. You handled the situation with admirable aplomb, Yuuri," Conrad gave him a true bow of courtier to his king. "Wolfram will burst with pride when he learns of it. If you will excuse me, I will see to it that Hanreid returns directly to his rooms. I will also meet with Gwendal to make sure the security detail on him is more vigilant from now on."

Alone in the garden with Murata, Yuuri waited for his heart to slow to a reasonable pace. Murata patted his shoulder.

"I think you may have been the first person in his life to make Hanreid back down. Bravo, Shibuya!"

"I don't deserve any praise. I was scared out of my mind."

His friend tilted his head to the side and gave him little shake. "That makes it all the more impressive. Let's go inside and make our excuses. I want to be the one to tell Wolfram this story."

"I might have made things worse. He's not going to let that slide," he whispered as they walked back to the ballroom.

"No, but until Wolfram gives birth, he won't do anything drastic. And by then we'll have made sure he can't, right?"

Yuuri tried to let the pep talk lift his spirits but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd regret the last few minutes.

-o0O0o-

After his escort returned him to the guest suite, Hanreid stood in the center of the room, fighting to control his reactions. The fact that the boy king found the nerve to defy him when ought to be walking on eggshells around him by now went against expectation. Hanreid might have put it off to a good bluff, but there'd been something in his voice, the way his eyes hardened. The brat had found his spine.

That meant they'd definitely discovered something he'd somehow missed.

He began stripping out of his finery to go to bed. It made no sense to wait up, no telling when the sorcerer would get back from his own excursion. Once he did and after he reported his findings, they'd work out a way to steal Wolfram and his son right out from under their noses before the boy king had a chance to pull off whatever they were planning. And they'd leave as much damage in their wake as possible. Hanreid intended to make Yuuri regret tonight's bravado every day of the rest of his very short life.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram woke gently, a part of him clinging to his dream. As the new day pulled him back, dream Yuuri helped their baby daughter wave bye-bye while Greta with one arm full of field flowers tossed a newly finished flower crown to him. He caught is and gave her a smiling...

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I didn't think you were awake yet."

Blinking the last dregs of sleep out of his eyes, Wolfram watched Gisela carry a tray of covered dishes to the bedside table. Something on it smelled delicious.

"Not completely, I was dreaming."

She smiled with bright eyes as she helped him sit up and rearranged the pillows behind him. "A pleasant one I hope?"

He couldn't help smiling back. "Yes, for a change."

Just knowing Hanreid could not enter his presence for the remaining days of his pregnancy had done wonders for the quality of his days and nights. Still, some of the nightmares he suffered in the days since his rescue had been monumental. Once his caretakers realized that they were more vicious when he fell asleep alone, Yuuri, his mother, or one of his brothers always sat with him until he drifted off.

"I was on a picnic with Yuuri, Greta, and the baby. Greta had just given me a crown she wove out of field flowers."

"Well, it's done you some good. There's a little more color in your cheeks. And you slept the night through without bad dreams, another good sign, though you missed the sweets Greta brought for you and a visit from Geika. Expect him to come by bursting with tales of the reception that he swears will lift your spirits." Gisela brought the tray over and set it securely across his blanketed legs. "The kitchen staff sent this with their best wishes for a swift recovery. What do you want first?"

Wolfram looked over the meal and tried not to wince. "When are you going to let me eat more real food?"

"As soon as I'm sure you can keep it down." Gisela handed him the steaming mug of beef broth. "And don't worry. We have your party treats in the ice box so they won't spoil too soon. It's up to you to get well before they turn."

The heat his fingers absorbed through the heavy stoneware felt wonderful, as did the sensation of the savory soup going over his tongue and down his throat. "This is good!" He took another swallow and closed his eyes in pure pleasure. "It's better than some of the soups I've had at formal banquets."

Gisela winked, "It's one of the special secret recipes that Mistress Kennard saves for what she calls the 'do or die hoity toity diplomatic banquets.' She's pulling out all her tricks for you." Her lips turned up, but the healer's eyes remained serious. "And she swears that no one can stay sick long dining on her finest cuisine." Gisela tucked bright green hair behind her ear before removing the lid from the bowl of thinned custard that from the smell had been enhanced with pureed peaches and cinnamon. "That's what smells so heavenly!" She quickly pulled it out of reach before he had a chance to grab it. "Finish your broth and I'll let you have it."

Wolfram took his time with the broth, savoring the taste and the way the warmth spread through his stomach. Gisela took the opportunity to fill him in on the latest happenings.

"The allegiance ceremony went smoothly, and the buffet reception afterwards was typical of any diplomatic event: representatives feeling each other out, flattery in excess, and the usual hangers on taking advantage of your absence to make inroads with Heika. You'd have been proud. Yuuri held his own. I was pretty much bored to the point of tears." The healer gave him a wink. "I hope you don't mind I used you as an excuse to leave early."

"Not at all." The broth was cooling so he drank faster. "Did my failure to appear cause any issues?"

"No, the explanation of your illness that Geika came up with satisfied anyone questioning your absence, even your uncle to a point."

"Uncle Waltorana? He isn't giving you a hard time over this, is he?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Though I assured him that while slow, your recovery has never been in doubt, he's insisting on extending his stay so he can be here to see you for himself the instant you're released from quarantine."

Wolfram shrugged and drained the last of the broth. "My uncle relishes his reputation as a stubborn man too well."

"Both my father and Gwendal have considered suggesting that he stay in town so we could move about freely, but with no good reason for the request, that would only raise alarms for him."

Wolfram nodded agreement. Honestly, he was a bit surprised Waltorana hadn't made more confrontational demands to see him. A lifetime of dealing with him had taught Wolfram just how determined and unmovable the man proved to be when challenged or wanting something. But the possibility of a confrontation with the Aristocrat hadn't put the worry in Gisela's eyes.

He finished off the broth and held out his hand for the custard. "What's really bothering you?"

She placed the dish on the palm of his hand, somber as a judge passing sentence. "I'm fairly certain you've already guessed."

The signs had been worrying him for more than a day now. Wolfram ate a spoon. The taste matched the delicious scent. Unfortunately, the first twinge of objection came from his stomach and he reluctantly set the rest aside. Food had suddenly lost its appeal.

"How long do I have?"

"No more than five days, and I'm afraid that may be wishful thinking. I'd be more hopeful with just a week more time, but we aren't going to have that option." Gisela leaned against the bed and met his gaze with a forthright honesty he greatly appreciated. Sugarcoating the truth wasn't going to help anyone. "I and my staff have prepared as best we can for your travail, but chances are there will be complications."

Wolfram nodded again. "Have you told anyone else yet?"

"No. I wanted to tell you first."

"Then don't." He cradled his stomach and the life within gently in his arms. "They have enough to worry about. When I go into labor, it's going to be bad, especially since you can't use healing majutsu. If it comes to a choice, Gisela, I want you to save her."

Protest burned in the tension between her brows and in the way her shoulders stiffened, but she nodded. As a healer, such decisions came with the job but thankfully rarely with someone she knew. She never spoke of it but being there when Julia died, unable to do anything to save her, must have hurt horribly. As her friend, at least his decision would make it easier if the need arose.

"I love my baby more than I thought possible, even before I knew there was a chance that Yuuri is her father. I want her to live and be happy and safe. If I...if it goes badly and Yuuri's her father, Hanreid is through. If Hanreid is her father, I name Lady Ulrike her guardian and protector. Have my brothers take her to the temple as soon as possible, before Hanreid can get his hands on her. Even he won't dare invade the temple precincts to take her by force. It will buy them time to legally sever his parental ties."

"I'll agree to this to set your mind at ease, but there won't be a need for it. The healers who will attend your delivery with me have decades of experience in the reproductive disciplines. Warin and Farica are the best on my staff. We did our journeyman duty tour together." Gisela leaned forward to grip his hand atop his belly with strength to match the determination in her eyes. "You and your little one will have the absolute best care available in Shin Makoku. We'll get you _both_ through this. Understood?"

Wolfram nodded and tried to smile. "That's good, because I really hate the idea of the alternative."

-o0O0o-

As he fastened the last button on his jacket collar, Yuuri heard Wolfram stir and groan in his sleep behind him. He went still, hoping that the fire demon would drift deeper into sleep again. Lately, Wolfram never seemed rested enough.

A sleep-slurred "What time is it?" ended that hope.

"It's a little after sunrise. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, my bladder did. What in the world possessed you to rise this early in the morning?"

Wolfram started to push himself into a sitting position and Yuuri rushed up to help him.

"I've got a riding lesson this morning," he explained while he supported him and arranged the pillows behind him to give him better support before handing him the chamber pot. Yuuri pulled the dressing screen into place to give Wolfram privacy. "So I'm going into the office early to get all my work done first so we can spend the rest of the day with Greta."

"Oh. That sounds fun."

Wolfram sounded like he was smiling, but it didn't reassure Yuuri at all. Despite a quiet night, Wolfram still looked exhausted. Circles darkened his eyes and the unhealthy pallor remained. It didn't help that he still hadn't gained the weight his ordeal had cost him and his cheeks remained hollowed out, despite his improving appetite. Gisela assured him that Wolfram was healthier than he looked though he still had a long way to go. Much of his gains went to the baby. Once he'd given birth, his recovery would seem miraculous by comparison.

Four days had passed since the end of the welcome home celebrations. All of the visiting dignitaries had left for their homes, even Waltorana, who had been called home to deal with some issue his chatelaine felt needed his personal attention. Only their unwanted guest remained, though Hanreid and his sorcerer were not allowed outside the rooms they'd been given without an armed escort.

They all waited in a kind of limbo for Wolfram to give birth. Each day that passed without that event was a blessing according to Gisela. If the baby waited a few more days, she felt sure she'd be able to use healing magic to ease Wolfram's labor. The blond bearer might be a little better, but Yuuri didn't need the healer to tell him that Wolfram wasn't recovered enough yet to deliver safely without healing support.

"Good morning, Your Majesty. I take it he's awake?"

With a blaze of green tresses streaming behind her, the healer entered with the makings for a sponge bath and a change of clothes.

"Hi, Gisela. Yes, he'll be ready for you in a minute."

"I'm ready now," Wolfram called from the other side of the screen.

Gisela joined him there and in next to no time departed with a wink and a "So far so good," which was becoming a kind of ritual between them. The reassurance made it easier for him to leave Wolfram to fulfill his duties.

Much improved in a clean nightshirt and more awake after his ablutions, Wolfram asked "Don't you think you should get going before you waste your early start?"

Yuuri perched at the foot of the bed. "I don't mind waiting until Lady Celi gets here."

She had guard duty this morning. None of them trusted Hanreid to keep his distance, so someone with strong majutsu always stayed by Wolfram's side in addition to his guards for security and peace of mind.

They didn't have to wait long. Enthusiastic conversation heralded Lady Celi's sweeping arrival with Greta at her side.

"What about pink for the baby?"

"Well, that is a color I haven't cultivated yet. What do you want for your flower?"

"Me?" Greta practically danced into the room. "Really?"

"Of course." Lady Celi petted the top of the human child's auburn head. "You're my grandchild too."

She clapped her hands. "I like purple! Daddy Yuuri, Papa Wolfram, did you hear? Greta's going to have a flower too!"

Yuuri crouched to give her a good morning hug. "I certainly did. We'll look forward to seeing their first blooms."

The former Maoh's escort carried several tomes that they stacked on Yuuri's bed before taking up position with the rest of the guards in the main room.

"Mother," her son chided, "how can your guards protect you if they can't draw weapons because they're hands are full?"

"Oh, we had Greta's detail with us. They're posted out in the reception area." She made her way to his bedside to kiss his brow and ruffle damp blond curls. "Don't be such a worrywart."

"What are all the books for?" Yuuri asked of the rather impressive stacks.

Celi cuddled her youngest son against her side. "Botany books. All we have in the castle library. These are going to be very special flowers. Wolfram, Greta, and I will while away the time picking likely cross candidates."

Time! "I've got to get going or I won't have as much free time later as I want." He reached to give Wolfram's closer hand a squeeze. "I'll be back soon. Don't tire yourself out before then."

And with a bounce and a wave, he was off the bed, out the door of the infirmary, and running down the hall.

-o0O0o-

Hours later, Gwendal's clearing throat brought his thoughts back to his office. With a sheepish shrug, he turned back to the task at hand.

The few seconds of daydreaming didn't help the fog of indecision that filled his brain. Today Gwendal had chosen to combine a lesson in the Shin Makoku written language with his Kingly duties. He'd given him a pile of petitions submitted by his people for judgment to translate. The documents dealt mainly with what back on Earth would be small claims court cases. Most had been simple enough to deal with. The one he held now had taken only twenty minutes to translate with just a few hints from his advisor.

The solution to the problem wasn't going to be so easy.

Farmer X put up a fence that encroached on Farmer Y's property. A land assessor brought in to verify the true property lines reported that X did indeed encroach on Y's land but only by a few inches, not the several yards Y had claimed. Apparently Farmer Y had been the first to encroach and had been using a section of Farmer X's property and harvesting crops from it for several decades. Farmer X was demanding recompense in the form of 50% of the sale price of the harvests over the years. Farmer Y insisted he planted the seeds and put in the labor so he owes nothing. Besides that, after all this time, the land should be his by the rule of abandonment.

Now Yuuri had to figure out a just resolution for both men, neither of whom had demonstrated any inclination to compromise.

A knock at Gwendal's office door had him praying for an excuse to put the mess on hold. When Conrad's head poked around the jam, his spirits lifted five feet. A grin split his face and he didn't care.

"Is it time for my riding lesson already?" Please say yes, because that meant the end of his work day and just a couple of hours before he got the rest of the day with Wolfram and Greta.

That was doctor's orders. Gisela noticed a marked improvement in Wolfram's demeanor and health the longer he spent with his family, especially Yuuri. From the day he adopted Greta, the three of them had been able to spend very little time together what with duties, various crises, and his being pulled back and forth between worlds.

Over the last several days, they'd spent more quality time together than they had in the years since his first arrival in Shin Makoku. Yuuri really enjoyed the hours sharing memories from their childhoods or going over Greta's lessons or just relaxing while Greta read one of Anissina's unlikely adventure stories. It made him think of the days in the kitchen with Shori and his parents doing the same thing.

Family was becoming more than a word for them and Yuuri found himself looking forward to the end of his day more and more.

"That's right, Your Majesty." Conrad confirmed his hope. "Ao is saddled and waiting by the stables for us. I had your horse saddled along with mine and His Majesty's, brother. Why don't you come along too? You've both been at this for hours. You need a break as well."

He turned his best puppy-eyed pleading face to Gwendal, who already had his face buried in the palm of his hand in resignation. "We can come back to this first thing in the morning and still have it ready for the courier in time, right Gwendal? We have been at this a long time. Conrad's right, you need a break as much as I do. We'll keep the lesson short so we can all spend some time with Wolfram before supper. Please?"

He glanced at Conrad who hid a smile behind his own hand. They'd all learned that any excuse that included time with his baby brother had a very high likelihood of success. Gwendal's duties usually meant he only had time to visit late in the evening, so Yuuri contrived as often as possible to get them extra time together. That it meant a break from property disputes for him was a happy bonus.

Gwendal closed the book where he'd been recording Yuuri's decisions. "As you will, Heika. I will expect you here at first light. Again. Understood?"

"Deal!" Yuuri had jumped to his feet on the third word and was moving for the door before he finished speaking. He pretended not to see the way Gwendal rolled his eyes or Conrad's shrug at his sudden burst of enthusiasm. The brothers followed in his wake down the corridor with Yuuri's escort discreetly keeping pace.

Once in the courtyard, Yuuri glanced around. It had become a habit in the days since the end of the welcome home celebrations. Hanreid or his sorcerer always seemed to be underfoot, turning up whenever and wherever you didn't want them to be despite the guard assigned to restrict their movements. This time though, he saw no sign of either skulking in shadowy places to spy on them, or in Hanreid's case to stare and smile. Yuuri doubted Hanreid was out to learn anything himself. He just liked to harass them in every way possible.

"Still no word from Yosak?" he asked in a low voice so the noise of the daily courtyard activities masked his words.

"No. But I wouldn't worry. He's a capable soldier. We had heavy rains along his route home that would slow travel."

Yuuri tried to accept Gwendal's reassurance. The spy was one of the most capable men he knew, but that didn't help with his worry. He'd spoken with Gisela after Wolfram fell asleep the night before and she confided that he would give birth any day. If the baby was born before Yosak returned with the evidence they sent him after, they'd have no grounds to keep Hanreid away from Wolfram if he turned out to be the father except the one he didn't want to use if at all possible.

Conrad whispered something to his escort and the soldiers drifted off to take up inconspicuous positions about the courtyard to wait while Yuuri took his "riding lesson."

"There are times," his godfather explained as they walked around the wood and stone structure to where their horses waited, "when an audience is not conducive of progress."

Ao whinnied as he rounded the corner. Grinning, Yuuri combed his fingers through his mane as the long head nudged at him looking for apples in his pockets.

"Sorry, boy. Next time, I promise." He checked the cinch on his saddle before mounting, earning an approving smile from Conrad. "Where are we going?"

"How about to the picnic meadow and back?" his godfather suggested.

Gwendal nodded, "Works for me," and set his mount to an easy canter out the gate.

Yuuri shared a grin with Conrad and they followed after him.

They caught up with Gwendal several lengths along the road. They had it all to themselves so rode abreast for easier conversation.

As soon as his body settled into Ao's stride, Yuuri asked, "So what are we going to try once we reach the meadow?"

"Actually," Conrad told them, "we're going to the meadow to meet someone."

Yosak! "Then he's back? Why didn't he just come to the castle?"

"Considering the proclivities of our unwanted guests, he kept his message short and vague. I hope you can read more from it than I, Brother."

That made sense. The Shin Makoku spy network must have codes to convey secrets in open messages. Yuuri watched eagerly as Conrad pulled a tiny slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Gwendal, who read it aloud.

"'Thanks for the leave to visit my aunt. She's fine now. I got a lift home, but it's slow going. Apologies. Will work shifts for anyone covering me until I get back. Yosak.'" The corner of his mouth lifted. "The first two sentences mean he found our answer. As for the rest, I'm assuming things got a little...complicated."

Yuuri exchanged glances with Conrad. With the red haired spy, complicated could mean a lot of things.

Gwendal tucked the note away in his own pocket and faced him. "Alright, Your Majesty. This is supposed to be a riding lesson. Let's put you through your paces as we go."

-o0O0o-

"Can I look yet?"

Even sitting still as a statue in the pose they'd decided on, Greta still managed to radiate a posture of eager impatience. With an indulgent smile, Wolfram told his daughter, "Not yet. I'll let you see in a while. Now don't move."

Actually, his little girl made an excellent model. She sat without squirming and always returned to the right position after each rest break. Drawing her was proving to be a joy.

Until his time as Hanreid's captive, he hadn't drawn a traditional portrait in years. But now the passion of his younger years had reawakened. Yuuri had never understood his current style and in the back of his head, he'd been playing with the idea of doing a family portrait for him as a gift. That was before the Boxes stole all their attention. Then Yuuri had to go back to his birth world and he lost the heart for it.

But drawing portraits of Greta, his mother and brothers, and Yuuri helped to keep him sane through his ordeal, and now the urge to do what his fiancé called "real" drawings, had returned with his gradual recovery. He needed a lot more time to heal before tackling canvas, but he'd made a nice start on the preliminary drawings.

Wolfram tipped his head to the left, erased a wayward line, and held the lapboard out to arm's length to critique his progress. With a satisfied nod, he waved Greta over.

"Alright, you can come over and see now."

With a happy squeal, she hopped down from Yuuri's bed to climb into his, careful not to jostle him too much, and he held the drawing so Greta didn't have to crane her neck to see it.

He felt good about where the portrait was going. It still needed hours of work but was at the point where Greta could see clearly that she sat on a bench in a window overlooking the interior garden, the branch of a flowering tree on the other side of the diamond pane glass.

"Oh!" Her eyes traveled over the parchment with a flattering wonder. "Is that really what Greta looks like? So pretty?"

"Well of course. My daughter will never be anything but beautiful. Want to watch for a while?"

Greta nodded eagerly and cuddled against his side. While he drew, she rubbed little circles across his huge belly. The first time she'd done it had been instinctive, without thinking. When she realized what she was doing, Greta stopped immediately with an apologetic duck of her head. He'd told her not to stop. It felt good and actually seemed to soothe the baby. So now she did it every chance she got.

"Papa Wolf?"

"Hmmm?"

Absorbed in building out the blossoms on the tree branch, he wasn't prepared for her next words.

"That man in the hood tried to talk to me today."

They nearly stopped the breath in his lungs. He almost dropped his pencil but covered his shocked reaction by erasing a perfectly fine petal of one of the cherry blossoms. Conditioned fear shuddered through him but Wolfram moved through it. He didn't want to worry Greta who fretted over his every twitch or give cause for Gisela to end their visit early.

"Where were your guards?" he managed to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"Right there, Papa. They got between us and kept him back until Lady Celi came with her guards and had them lead him away."

"And that's exactly what should have happened. Did he frighten you?"

"Not really. He just kept asking questions and calling me little princess in this smarmy voice." Greta frowned in distaste. "I don't like him at all."

With a little laugh, Wolfram gave her a quick hug. "That is very discerning of you. So, what did he want to know?"

She peered up at him with concern. "He kept asking about you, how you were, was your recovery going well, and things like that. He said that his master would pay his respects to you soon." She sat up enough to meet his gaze eye to eye, a sign that she wanted truth, not reassurances. "Hanreid can't get to you here can he?"

"Not even close." Wolfram pointed out the door of his hospital room to the soldiers in sight: two guards at the outer entrance and the one sitting next to the intern at the watch station. "I'm well protected, and your own guard is here as well. We're as safe as can be. But we'll tell Gwendal and Conrart when they get back with Yuuri just in case. Alright?"

Greta's head moved in agreement but Wolfram guessed she wasn't entirely convinced.

He certainly wasn't.

Wolfram closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his heart rate, which had lurched into full speed at Greta's first mention of the spellcaster. It had been more than a week since Hanreid tried to visit him. His brothers reported regularly on his movements, and he and his sorcerer had done nothing but skulk about never letting them forget their presence and the approaching deadline. They had never so much as asked about him, which left Wolfram relieved as well as unsure what to think.

Now that the sorcerer had broken the pattern, he had to ask himself why? Was Hanreid planning something? Did the sorcerer suspect, as he did, that the birth was going to happen soon? Wolfram had no logical reason for his growing certainty but Gisela's optimistic words to Yuuri that morning had not found their echo in his instinct.

And he also knew his body wasn't ready.

A warm hand gathered his left hand up from the mattress where it had clenched into a fist, as if it wanted to beat back the inevitable future.

"Greta," Lady Celi spoke lightly with no hint that anything was wrong in her tone. "Why don't you take a break and fetch us some fruit punch and whatever sweets Cook has ready?"

"Alright." Greta sprang to the floor and darted out of the room as if she'd been waiting for an excuse to move for hours.

Wolfram called after her, "Don't get ahead of your guards!"

Alone now with his mother, he felt her gently uncurl his fingers and wrapped them in her own. "It's going to be alright."

"It's so hard to pretend I'm not worried, Mother. I'm…terrified."

She shook their clasped hands. "The monster in the closet isn't so frightening when you drag it out into the light. What exactly are you afraid of?"

"Hanreid. He's going to try something to get control of me and the baby again as soon as I give birth."

Celi smiled with warm relief. "I can slay that monster. Look around. You're surrounded by our best soldiers. Gwendal, Conrart, and I will never be far away. Hanreid will have an exceedingly difficult time getting anywhere near you. It's the same for little Greta. And there's your fiancé as well. Yuuri is never going to let anything happen to you or the baby. We'll be moving you both as soon as you're strong enough to Shinou's temple where you'll be safe until we deal with him and his sorcerer. Next fear."

"I need more time but I don't think I have it. Gisela doesn't dare use her magic to help the delivery along yet. I...told her to save the baby if she has to make the choice. I haven't found the courage to tell Yuuri that yet. If he knew I even considered the possibility, Mother, I'm afraid of what he or the Maoh might do."

His mother shifted onto his bed and gathered him in her arms. Wolfram clung to her. He didn't need to protect her from his fears the way he did with Greta, or worry that his weakness might disappoint her the way he did with his brothers, despite their reassurances.

"Every bearer is anxious when the time comes near. I was with each of you, and you have more reason than most. Focus on the fact that you'll have the absolute best care when your travail comes on. Just think about that beautiful life waiting to say hello and look on her parents for the first time."

That put a smile on his face until another twinge danced from his back through his midsection and convinced Wolfram to share the main worry.

"There's something else. I lied to Yuuri this morning."

Celi smoothed his hair in a tender petting that felt wonderful. "About what?"

"The reason I woke up. It wasn't my bladder. It was a contraction."

The comforting didn't falter but the heart under his ear began to beat a little faster. "Are you sure, Wolvie?" came in a soft whisper.

"It might be false labor. We hope it is." He bit his lip, "but the baby is in position and the pains have started to come regularly. Gisela knows and she is making sure the labor room is ready and her attendants on alert. It could happen today."

His world could end today.

Celi held him in silence for a moment. "Then I'm sure everything that can be done has been done. I know it will be hard to do, but stop worrying about all the maybes and what ifs. Focus that energy on your baby." She suddenly grinned and kissed his temple. "My baby's having a baby. And I don't look a day over 200."

Wolfram laughed as she meant him to and pretended he didn't see the suspicious brightness in her eyes.

-o0O0o-

_AN: This was a long one and I hope worth the wait. I was struggling with a scene that I wanted to include that just didn't make sense no matter how many times I rewrote it. In the end I dropped it completely and the results came out much better for it. I kept typing while I struggled with this so I actually have the next chapter nearly ready to go. It just needs to be proofed, and I've got time off for New Year's to work on it. I'll post in a week or sooner if I can manage._

_Thanks again for reading! Please review, your feedback is welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Yosak brings good news and something unexpected. Things get dicey for Wolfram as the birth of his child looms. Be here for __**Chapter 15: The Blessed Event**_


	15. The Blessed Event

Rating: M

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks for the great response to Chapter 14! Here's the promised next chapter and on time!__ Read on for the birth of Wolfram's baby._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 15: The Blessed Event**

True to their roles as instructors to the King, the brothers turned the ride into a lesson. One would call out a pace, he'd give Ao the command, and the other, watching from the side of the road as he passed critiqued his form and gave advice. About ten minutes into it, Gwendal actually complimented him.

"Wolfram will be proud to hear how much your seat has improved in the last few days."

Conrad agreed. "I believe his ride into town when Wolfram vanished took Yuuri over a barrier. His body knows he can do it and his mind is beginning to accept that truth. Still, he is a long way from attempting the more complex maneuvers."

"Thanks, guys." Yuuri reached out to pat Ao's neck. "Ao has been a big help. He's the best. What next?"

"A long-awaited meeting, I believe," his godfather said, staring ahead.

Following his gaze, Yuuri spotted a loaded buckboard wagon moving slowly along the road. Familiar red hair acted like a beacon.

"It's Yosak!" Yuuri urged Ao to a run. His companions did the same with their own mounts. By the time they reached the wagon, Yuuri's heart was racing with anticipation and fear. He pulled Ao to a walk at the wagon's side and opened his mouth to greet the spy only to have his jaw drop at the sight of his left leg wrapped in linen bandages.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"This," Yosak tapped the leg with a long branch he must have been using as an impromptu crutch, "is camouflage. I'm perfectly fine, young man." To demonstrate, he jumped gracefully from the driver's seat to land lightly on the packed dirt and jog alongside the wagon. "I left on horseback. Had to have an excuse for returning on a loaded wagon you see. I've been telling anyone who asked that this generous lady came upon me after my horse threw me and left us both walking wounded and graciously offered me a ride despite my roguish demeanor. Otherwise I'd still be limping along with miles to go."

The tall redhead jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the prim little registrar he'd seen in the Demon Mirror visions sitting on the driver's seat. She clutched a huge book to her chest like her life depended on it. Behind her in the wagon bed, Yuuri counted two trunks, three satchels, and of all things a rocking chair.

When his gaze came back to the spy in confusion, Yosak shrugged.

"She refused to leave it behind."

The woman rounded on him, eye to eye from the wagon's vantage point. "My great-grandfather made that chair by hand. He was a carpenter of renown throughout Shin Makoku. It's irreplaceable." Her voice held an edge that hinted at a long-standing argument between the two that couldn't have made for a pleasant journey. "You made me leave everything else."

"I offered to bring the book myself, or at least the relevant pages," Yosak responded.

"And I was supposed to trust my reputation to a ruffian like you? Not on your life. I am personally responsible for the records under my purview."

As the argument grew, her voice took on a quiver and Yuuri realized she was fighting tears. Just what had gone wrong?

Yosak countered with, "And I told you how urgent my mission was. You..."

Gwendal barked "Enough!" and cut off the confrontation like a hot knife through soft butter. Both Yosak and the woman fell silent. She even straightened her spine like a soldier coming to attention. The steel-haired Demon had that affect on a lot of people.

"Yosak, report."

"Sir!" Yosak gave a cocky salute and a wink meant for his erstwhile verbal opponent, which set her grinding her teeth. He hopped easily up onto the wagon again and took his seat next to her. "May I introduce Mistress Ararinda Eichel, the most devoted keeper of your legal records in the von Hanreid lands. This young lady helped me find what you sent me for. In fact, she made the relevant notations herself and clearly remembers the day and the man."

"As I said before, she didn't want to deface the book or lend it to me without one of her staff escorting me and bringing it back once we were finished with it. Mistress called her assistant over to give him the job. He went white as a sheet and flat refused to do it. He said, and this is a direct quote: 'Are you mad? Cross von Hanreid? I'd rather slit my own throat, thank you very much.' He went on to – in rather livid language – describe the fates of various men and women who'd done something to gain the man's ire. Understandably, Mistress Eichel grew even more anxious after each tale. She only agreed to let me take the record book if she and her belongings came along with assurances of relocation and gainful employment far from Hanreid's reach."

Yuuri bowed to her though it felt a little awkward from the saddle, which seemed to fluster the woman even more. He kept forgetting that adults here saw him as their king, not as a boy still in his teens. "Thank you, Mistress, for the sacrifices you've made to bring what we needed to us. On my word, you will have what you asked for and more besides. Your courage and honesty may well have helped to save someone very dear to us and prevent an evil man from committing a heinous act of treason."

Murata would have rolled his eyes over that speech. He'd stolen the gist of it from a marathon of old pirate movies they'd watched during a sleepover when they were kids. Flowery, but it really worked with Shin Makoku protocols, not to mention the sentiment behind the words were real.

He glanced over his shoulder at Gwendal. "Lord von Voltaire is the most honorable man I know. He will see to the care and safe return of your charge. We'll even arrange to have anything you left behind brought to your new home once you're settled."

Flustered, she stammered out a "Thank you, Heika," before ducking her head to try and hide her blush. "I am glad to be of service, but the sooner my part in this is done, the happier I'll be."

Yuuri didn't blame her one bit for that.

The registrar held out the record book for Gwendal to take. "Here you are, Your Lordship." Seeing how her arms shook with the weight of it, the eldest brother quickly relieved her of the burden. Her wearied sigh seemed heavier than the moment warranted. Her next words explained why.

"This whole thing has been a burden on my soul. I don't mind telling you I'm happy to leave the whole thing in your hands." She pointed at the length of scarlet red ribbon hanging from between the pages. "That's the page you want."

Gwendal spread the book across the horn of his saddle and began to read on the move. Conrart turned his understated charm on the nervous lady.

"While my brother examines the records, would you mind telling us how you came to make the notations?"

"It was a lot of things actually. I thought a lot about it on this journey," she shot Yosak a speculative glare as realization dawned, "despite this man trying to distract me with his teasing. Tribute bonds are exceedingly rare. Things have to be really bad or really wrong for someone to resort to it. The whole thing made me uneasy, especially when Lord von Hanreid pressured me to make sure everything was recorded despite key requirements not being met. The law requires that the tribute bride state before the priest and the registrar their willingness to come under the tribute groom's authority."

Her fingers began twisting into the fabric of her shawl and Yuuri was certain she had no idea what she was doing to the cloth.

"His reason for not following the law seemed plausible at first, but even used legitimately, we are instructed to watch carefully for any signs of coercion in a tribute marriage. Though I've never seen Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld, I am as familiar as anyone in Shin Makoku with the stories of his devotion to Your Majesty. A marriage so soon after the bans announced the end of his engagement to His Majesty seemed out of character. I began to worry that coercion might be involved, or trickery. Dishonest people have tried to derail an inheritance by falsifying a marriage before. So I made the note asking for confirmation by the bride before setting the marriage permanently in the record as a precaution. Honestly, I really didn't think it would amount to anything. Lord von Hanreid would bring his bride in to sign the necessary forms to make the marriage official and that would be that."

Being the center of everyone's attention must really have made her nervous because she turned her gaze to the passing trees and wouldn't look at them. Her fingers grew even more twitchy and the corner of shawl began to unravel in her hands.

"Over the next days, I learned things that changed my thinking. First, when my assistant returned from the temple with the presiding priest's signed documents, he told me that the old man boasted of how he expected to be called on to conduct even more ceremonial duties now that the nobility were asking for him by name. He thought him deluded because he obviously had bad eyesight and his order must retire him from active duty soon. It occurred to me that a priest who can't see clearly might have missed signs a younger priest or priestess would have spotted. Lord von Hanreid might have counted on that to help him get away with something. If he was trying something, how could I know for sure? I convinced myself it was my imagination."

Mistress Eichel suddenly noticed the shredded state of the corner of her shawl and deliberately stilled her fingers, smoothing the mangled cloth with a regretful sound. "Then I overheard town gossip that after coming back from an unsuccessful courting journey, his Lordship had found another lookalike for the one he really wanted to warm his bed, kept the poor lad under lock and key. I didn't know what to do. I only had rumor and suspicion to go on. What if I reported it and was wrong? Lord von Hanreid struck me as a man you don't want mad at you. Even before I heard the stories Yosak mentioned. One meeting with the man made that pretty clear. At the same time, if I was right, I didn't want to just do nothing. That's when I made the second notation."

She aimed her question at Gwendal. "Was I wrong?" On the other side of the wagon, he had closed the book. "Have I thrown away my career for nothing?"

Gwendal gave her a rare smile and Yuuri started to breathe freely again, his spirits lifted by a mile. "No, Mistress Eichel. You read the situation with great accuracy. In fact, your actions will help us prevent an evil man from committing a heinous fraud against an innocent man, and much worse."

The lady gave a huge sigh and Yuuri guessed she'd been holding her breath too while waiting for Gwendal's verdict.

"Oh, thank Shinou! I was so worried. Master Yosak tried to assure me all through our journey that I did right, but..."

Her voice trailed off, her cheeks alternating between bright red and pallor white.

Conrad finished for her, "It is hard to accuse someone who has power over you on little more than intuition and circumstantial suspicions."

"All the more reason to applaud your courage in acting as you did." Gwendal passed the book back to her. "Lady Ulrike needs to see this. Yosak here will escort you to the temple and arrange a room for the night so you may rest and refresh yourself. Enjoy a hot supper and bath, a good night's sleep, and a decent breakfast. By now I'm sure you are heartily sick of road tack."

"That's a great idea!" Yuuri nodded eagerly when it looked like she might politely decline the offer. "It's the least we can do to repay you for your inconvenience."

The lady nodded jerkily. "Thank you, Sire. I am a little tired and will be glad for the chance to rest so long as I can leave as early as possible in the morning as well. I'd rather be on my way as quickly as possible. Your man tells me you have a certain guest I'd prefer to avoid…indefinitely."

"Of course," Gwendal agreed. "Yosak, I want you to stay as well and bring a report back from Lady Ulrike in the morning. She and the priestesses have been researching something for me. I'm hoping they'll have results. Mistress Eichel, I'll send another of my men to escort you to my estates in the morning. Remain there as my guest until we have a chance to arrange housing and gainful employment for you."

The lady gaped. "That is much more than I have a right to expect. Thank you, My Lord."

Yosak nudged her with his arm, "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. If we hurry, we can be there in time for supper. You three ought to head back as well. See you in the morning, boss." He clucked his tongue at the horse and set off for the temple.

Yuuri immediately turned to Gwendal, "What did it say?"

"The notations basically state that the registrar suspected that the tribute bond between Lord von Hanreid and Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld might be forced or fraudulent at worst or improperly executed at best and should be reviewed before officially recorded."

Eyes going wide, Yuuri asked, "So they were never legally married after all?"

"No, Highness." Gwendal actually smiled.

"Then we have him! Let's go home. I can't wait to kick Hanreid into the darkest cell we have and leave him to rot."

The brothers exchanged glances. "No, Your Majesty. He deserves it, but we can't do that."

Gwendal's words stunned him. Yuuri reined Ao in and stared at them. "Why not? We have the evidence we need, right? What's to stop us?"

Gwendal started his mount moving forward and Yuuri followed suit, along with his godfather. "Remember your lessons in Shin Makoku law and you will know the reasons we cannot arrest Hanreid, much as we may want to."

Leave it to Gwendal to turn their conversation into a teaching opportunity. Still, the older man had never steered him wrong and always had the good of his country and King in mind. Yuuri sighed but did his best to follow Gwendal's instructions. He soon began to see what had been obvious to his companions.

"You said that by Mazoku law, a marriage is legitimate if it the couple has a child. If we arrest Hanreid, there'd have to be a trial. Hanreid would use his right to defend himself to tell everyone that he fathered a baby on Wolfram, the one thing we want to prevent getting out." Yuuri thought hard for a way around that problem. "What about Lady Anissina's machine? We can prove Wolfram was already pregnant when Hanreid kidnapped him before it gets to trial."

Conrad explained, "Science is too new here in Shin Makoku. I doubt her results to be believed by most Mazoku, let alone accepted into evidence in a trial. A judge might be open-minded enough to do so, but the law itself would require him to dismiss it as irrelevant. As far as the law is concerned, extraduce births are nothing more than myth."

"And Hanreid has evidence that only he has ever," his cheeks went hot with embarrassment, "had sex with Wolfram. So some people will never believe that the baby was soul born and think Wolfram cheated on me. What does the law say about that?"

"At best, you'll be forced to set him aside. A consort who betrays the trust of the Maoh also commits treason against his or her country." The eldest brother waxed grimmer by the second. "That is a death sentence, though the circumstances might grant you room for leniency, though not much. Situations of questioned paternity have occurred among the Aristocrats and nobility of Shin Makoku in the past. Mazoku lords and ladies have been forced to set aside a spouse of their own choosing because their people threatened revolt or worse. Sometimes it was justified, but all too often the discord was fueled by another party with someone waiting to fill the deposed spouse's role." Gwendal gave him a sympathetic glance. "In your case, many conniving families would happily fuel any rumor Hanreid starts if it improved their chances of snaring a royal in-law."

And that statement made Yuuri feel like so much meat in a market square.

Conrad stared ahead, morose with eyes hot with the dark emotions he must be struggling to control. "And none would care that once outside the Maoh's protection, Wolfram would have no options. As a tribute bride, he'd be forced back into Hanreid's clutches."

So arresting Hanreid must be their absolutely last resort.

Gwendal pointed out, "In our favor, Hanreid doesn't want a trial either. That would ruin any chance of his becoming the power behind a child King. But the second we move to arrest him, he will know that he's lost his gamble to rule the Demon Kingdom. He'll be like a cornered beast, more dangerous than ever."

Yuuri began to feel sick as he realized the danger that loomed over Wolfram if they didn't do things right. "What do you think he'll do?"

"Thwarted in his original plans, he will seek to salvage what he can and cause as much damage as he can along the way. My guess is he will bring a claim of paternity. A judge will hear his side only at that time. Our challenge must be brought in a separate proceeding. Once a judge rules that the bond is consummated, Wolfram and the baby revert to his custody until a new hearing is held and presentation of evidence and a final decision. Hanreid will use that time to simply vanish with them. It's in his best interests not to be around when the truth comes out."

"So what can we do?"

"Wait until Wolfram gives birth. Right now Hanreid thinks the baby is his. While he does, he will bide his time. He's sure we will eventually do what he wants when faced with him leaving with them. He hasn't planned for any other outcome because he believes he is the father." A tiny smile curled Gwendal's lip. "He doesn't know we have proof that he's a rapist and the marriage was forced, thanks to the Demon Mirror. If he actually fathered Wolfram's baby, we can prove the conception was unnatural. We use the threat of exposing his crimes to force him to abandon all claim to Wolfram and the baby. If the Aristocrats learn the truth, they can strip him of his title, riches, and lands for his crimes against one of their own."

"Unfortunately," Conrad continued, "that won't be the end of Hanreid's threat. Even if he's lost his chance to rule Shin Makoku, his obsession with our brother will remain. Hanreid won't simply give him up."

Yuuri remembered Hanreid's reaction when they took Wolfram from him when he was so sick. Only the sorcerer's intervention prevented his master's crazed, possessive from escalating the situation into violence. It might have all been an act for their benefit, but he doubted that either man had planned on Wolfram collapsing the way he did.

"The sorcerer," he gasped. "How do we stop them from using magic the way they did to take Wolfram the first time?"

"Lady Ulrike and her priestesses began searching for a counter spell as soon as we informed them of how they kidnapped Wolfram," the elder brother informed him. "That's the report I hope Yosak will bring back with him. Until they find it, he is guarded by our best magic-wielding soldiers. We will keep him safe."

The steel Yuuri heard in his voice found its echo in Conrad's eyes and clipped nod.

"Good." He'd noticed the increased security but had been too worried about Wolfram to think much of it except to be glad it helped the blonde feel safe. "Thanks, guys. I should have thought of that."

Conrad's response soothed a guilt just starting to rise inside him. "It's completely understandable. As King, there will always be the need to delegate tasks to those who support you, leaving you free to focus your energies where they are needed most. Right now, that is with Wolfram. We've all seen how he draws strength from your presence."

That brought the blush to Yuuri's cheeks. Sure Wolfram cheered up when he visited and slept best when he waited with him until he dropped off, but actual physical improvement? That seemed a stretch. But Gisela did say something about extraduce needing the energy of both parents to develop in the womb. If the baby didn't need to draw as much from Wolfram anymore, he'd have more to devote to his own recovery.

A grin spread across his face. "Let's ride," Yuuri announced and urged Ao to a run. He had a lot of good news to give his fire wielder.

-o0O0o-

Greta split the morning between being his model and his nurse, gradually becoming more like her usual cheerful self. Everyone was on board with keeping her from worrying. Gisela's handpicked aides manning the infirmary cheerfully let the little girl "help" them tend his needs, making a game of it.

Except for the guards, they had the whole infirmary to themselves so it posed no disruption to services. The tale of his contagious illness proved the perfect excuse to send the interns and aides who didn't know the truth of Wolfram's condition on temporary assignment at other medical facilities for the duration.

Another pain caused him to flinch. Fortunately, Greta was looking away and missed it. His mother, watchful where she sat in Yuuri's chair with her feet crossed on top of the staff of botany books, reached over to give his arm a squeeze and he responded with a quick shake of his head and a reassuring smile. Though the time between contractions was shrinking, it was nothing to worry about yet.

They all noticed the increased hubbub that signaled Yuuri's arrival. Through the limited view of his room's doorway, Wolfram saw two of his guards come to attention as his fiancé entered the reception area. He heard his standard greeting.

"Hey, Gisela, everyone."

The healer greeted him in a clear voice, "Good afternoon, Heika," but Wolfram only made out the sound of movement indicating that the rest of her staff probably only bowed in greeting. None of them thought it proper to be informal with their king despite his permission to be more relaxed.

Yuuri asked the question he always asked. "How's Wolfram?"

"Why don't you go in and see for yourself," Gisela deftly avoided answering. "Lady Celi and Greta are with him. Best not dally. Though working on Greta's portrait helped to distract him, Wolfram has been anxious that your lesson was taking too long."

She knew him too well, he hadn't said a word.

"Right, thanks!"

The double black burst into the room with a huge grin on his face and despite everything, Wolfram felt his spirits lift at the sight.

"Hi, everybody!"

Wolfram paused in his work only long enough to give him a once over and a snort. It didn't faze Yuuri; he'd probably seen the signs of his relief that he was safely home. His wimp's skill at reading him seemed to improve by the day. Yuuri himself looked anxious but in a good way, and Wolfram wondered what had happened in the last hours to make him so.

"Took you long enough. Where did you go?"

Yuuri grabbed another chair and pulled it to the bedside, sat with a woof and leaned backward, balancing on the back legs. "We rode to the meadow and back. Conrad and Gwendal let me go ahead while they take care of Ao and the other horses."

"That was good of them." His brothers always seemed to be making opportunities for him and Yuuri to spend time together lately. Not that he had any intention of complaining.

"Yeah. They promised not to take too long. And my lesson went really well. They both complimented me on how my riding has improved. Oh, and Yosak ran into us on his way home, he says hello."

Yuuri's smile was positively radiant. Wolfram heart sped up. A glance Celi's way let him see the relief those words brought to his mother's face and confirmed his interpretation. It had to mean that Yosak had found the evidence they needed against Hanreid's claims. He wouldn't ask for details while Greta could overhear, but he'd get them first chance he had to question him in private.

With a flicker of hope rekindled, Wolfram returned to his drawing. He considered Greta's profile in the drawing, glanced up at her where she sat on the opposite bed, then erased the line of the chin. He drew it in again with a little less fullness, the results more satisfying. He raised his head to catch Greta straining to catch a glimpse of his progress. His eyebrow went up and she gave him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, but it's hard to keep the happy in. No studies, getting my own flower, helping take care of you, this has been the best day! "

"It has been fun," Celi agreed. "We so rarely get to spend time together like this. We must do more things as a family once the baby's born and you've recovered."

Greta bounced on the bed in total support of the idea.

"If you keep moving around like that," he teased her, "you won't recognize yourself when I'm done."

"I will too," she told him as she resumed the pose they'd settled on. "You're the best artist I know."

"I'm the only artist you know," Wolfram smiled back. "Now try to look more serious. This is supposed to be a study of solemnity."

From where he rocked precariously on his chair, Yuuri shrugged, "Admit it, you chose the wrong pose for our little girl."

"I did not," Wolfram insisted. "The contrast to Greta's natural personality will give her portrait more impact. And if you keep that up, you're going to fall and give yourself a concussion."

His fiancé pretended to lose his balance, nearly did with a comical flash of panic on his face, and settled properly on all four chair legs.

"See?" he told the black-haired boy. "Now behave yourself. Fine example you set for our daughter."

He wasn't really upset with Yuuri, it just felt good to banter with him the way they had before Hanreid ruined his life. Who knew how long he had to enjoy this respite, perhaps only hours. Once he gave birth, they'd know who the father was and he'd either be staying with his family or permanently bound in nightmare to Hanreid for the rest of his life.

A fierce protectiveness rose up in Wolfram's chest, and not for the first time. He knew what he faced. Even if Yuuri proved to be the father, he saw no outcome where Hanreid walked away and left them in peace. Hanreid wanted Shin Makoku, and the baby was his key to that prize, no matter her paternity. Silently, Wolfram renewed his vow to his unborn child that he'd see to it Hanreid never had a chance to harm her, no matter what he had to do or the cost.

"This is good!" Yuuri's unexpected voice at his shoulder nearly made him jump. "You should do more stuff like this."

Stuff? Wolfram opened his mouth to try again to explain style and expression as he saw it to his clueless wimp when the first real pain stole his breath.

"When you finish Greta, do one of me? I can take them back to Earth and have copies made, and we can give them as presents… Wolf?"

The second pain hit and the pencil fell through his fingers. Thankfully, it didn't mar the drawing. Through the third spasm, he heard his mother yell for Gisela, felt Yuuri's arms supporting him around his shoulders as his body tried to twist away from the pain.

Struggling to breathe through it, Wolfram gazed up at him. The boy who had been so brave and mature over the last few days now looked far too young as he fought fear and panic.

Greta, frozen at first by shock, scrambled off the other bed to rush to his side. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he tried to reassure them. "My body is just preparing to give birth."

Yuuri helped his mother ease him back into the supporting pillows and gripped his nearest hand tightly. "It's not supposed to hurt like this, is it?"

Gisela's timely arrival saved him from another lie. "Everyone step back please." She placed her hand on his belly just as the next spasm caused him to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. The healer used mundane skills to judge his condition. "Well, Wolfram, it looks like your babe has decided to meet us a little sooner than we'd planned."

He admired the way she kept her expression cheerful for Yuuri and Greta, who'd claimed her other father's hand in a grip that left her poor knuckles white. The healer and his mother knew as well as he that something had gone very wrong.

Yuuri surprised him again, proving that he had paid attention to Gisela's explanation of how precarious his pregnancy had become by asking, "It's not too soon? Didn't you say Wolfram needed at least another week?"

Gisela's palm against his forehead felt almost cold and Wolfram knew his temperature was rising into fever range.

"True, it is sooner than I'd have preferred," she told everyone in the room, "but we're ready. This little one isn't the first to come early nor will she be the last."

Gisela's aides arrived and she waived her people over when they came to the door. Warin and Farica shaped a sedan chair using their arms. Gisela pulled him upright with a strength that surprised people who judged her by her petite size. The three healers working with practiced efficiency soon had him in position to move to the next room. Yuuri darted in to rescue his art supplies and pad when they started to slide across the shifting blankets toward the edge of the bed. He handed the pad of paper and box of pencils over to Greta who took them with a solemn expression.

"Will you take care of these for Wolfram for a while? Wait outside with Lady Celi. I'll stay with Wolfram and let you know as soon as the baby's born. Okay?"

Greta shook her head fiercely in refusal, her lips caught tight between her teeth.

Wolfram recognized that stubborn stance from past lost arguments. The last time she left a parent in a distressing situation, she became an orphan. He understood why she wanted to stay close, but he didn't want her close enough to hear his cries when the pain got worse. Not for the world did he ever want to frighten his little girl. He turned pleading eyes to his mother who immediately understood what he wanted her to do. Celi gave him a quick hug then walked quickly over to urge Greta along.

"I want to stay with Wolfram too, Greta, but we will only be in the way. And sometimes bearers use language unfit for little girls to hear." She winked when his daughter gave her a disbelieving look.

"But Papa Wolfram never swears."

Well, at least not in front of his daughter. All the soldiers of Blood Pledge Castle were under standing orders to watch their language around the little princess. Of course he determined to set the proper example for his troops, but that didn't mean some of the colorful language he'd picked up in the barracks over the years wouldn't slip out under the growing duress.

"Neither do I – under normal circumstances. But some of the things I said to my husband when I was in labor with Gwendal – he was my first birth and I really had no idea what to expect – blistered the paint on the bedroom walls." His mother bent close and took Greta's hand. "Let's go up to Anissina's laboratory to wait. It's closer than either of our suites so when Gisela sends word of her arrival, we'll the very first family to see the little one."

"No!" Greta resisted, refusing to lose eye contact with him, on the verge of weeping.

Wolfram hated to see her so worried. Before he passed her in the living sedan chair the healers made of their arms to carry him into the birthing room, he squeezed Gisela's arm to get her attention.

"Wait please." As soon as they stopped, he reached out to gentle Greta's curls with his fingers and gave her the best reassuring look he could manage. "Thank you for wanting to be here for me, but Mother is right. This isn't the place for you, not until after I deliver. I'll be fine, Greta, and so will the baby. We've got Gisela, Farica, and Warin to get us through. Stay with Mother and think of good names for your sister. Just in case the ones your other father comes up with aren't suitable. And I promise, you will be my first visitor. Mother?"

"I'll see to it. Come, Greta."

Greta's smaller hand grabbed his and pressed it to her cheek briefly before letting her grandmother lead her out of the infirmary.

Yuuri though stuck to his side and entered the birthing room with him. Between contractions, Wolfram could take in his new surroundings. A special bed waited in the middle of the room. The mattress angled to allow him to rest in the best position for comfort during his travail and to allow gravity to assist the delivery. It lacked a footboard so that shifting to the edge to allow Gisela space to help the baby into her new world when the time came didn't require energy he'd need for pushing. A tray of instruments, thankfully for his fiancé's sake, covered by a cloth waited on the bedside table, ready in case of need for surgical recourse. For privacy, another dressing screen had been brought in. Normally, sweet herbs on flat trays filled a birthing room with soothing scents to help give the bearer a sense of peace. Rather than risk a repeat of the night of his rescue, Gisela had decided to keep this room as sterile as possible.

Only while the two healers carrying him settled him into the waiting bed did Yuuri move out of their way and his sight.

"Here you go, my Lord." Warin arranged the pillows behind his head and gave him a friendly wink, "I'll send one of the guards to inform your brothers they are about to become uncles."

The second he moved out of the way, Yuuri returned immediately to his side and took his hand.

"Squeeze when the pain gets bad," Yuuri told him. "It's supposed to help, according to the movies anyway."

Wolfram remembered seeing movies on the small lighted box in Yuuri's world. He and Murata had explained them as moving stories. His fiancé ought to know better than to take them as fact. And yet the contact did seem to help a little with the next contraction.

"It might get really bad, Yuuri, and you've had no experience with this. I know I'm asking a lot but… Don't leave?"

He heard the weakness in his tone but didn't care. Just this once, he was asking for what he needed.

Yuuri soothed sweaty hair off Wolfram's brow with a gentle stroke of his fingers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"And I apologize in advance if I blister the wall."

It took Yuuri a couple of seconds to catch his attempt at humor but he laughed, "I think I can handle it. Maybe I'll learn new words to shock Murata with."

True to his promise, Yuuri stayed put and endured the vice clenching on his hand every time Wolfram suffered through a contraction, which were coming far too fast. Gisela took his pulse and her lips rose in a relieved smile.

"Your pulse is stronger than I'd feared. That's a good sign."

"When's the baby coming?" Yuuri wanted to know.

Gisela gave him a quick pat on the hand holding Wolfram's. "The birth process has only begun, Yuuri. It could be hours before the baby enters the birth canal."

"Hours?"

And of course another contraction chose that moment to rip through him. Wolfram failed to muffle the half-sob that it squeezed out of him. Tears leaked from his eyes and Yuuri tenderly wiped them away. He wanted to say something to take the terror out of the black eyes peering into his face, but breathing at the moment took priority over speaking.

"He can't take this for so long. Isn't there something you can do for the pain?"

"Drugs are out of the question, the same with healing magic. I've blankets warming in the next room, that's all I dare risk for now."

Farica immediately strode toward the door, "I'll fetch one for you."

Green eyes scrutinized him shrewdly. "You'll need to fuel up before true labor begins. I have ingredients for a strengthening drink in my office that will help. It will take a few minutes to prepare. Heika will you watch Wolfram and call out if he needs us?"

"Sure."

The minute Gisela left, Yuuri bent closer and whispered. "You'll have to say when to call. Every time you twitch I want to yell for help."

Wolfram snorted, "Wimp. Ah!"

Yuuri held him through the spasm and Wolfram buried his face in his shoulder so he didn't see how bad it really was.

"How touching." The hated voice tore at his control, and barely dormant fear woke to claw its way out of Wolfram's gut and into his throat. He watched in numb despair as Hanreid strode into the room as if he and not Yuuri was master of Blood Pledge Castle. "I appreciate your standing in for me, Heika, but that is my rightful place. Stand aside."

"Not on your life! Wolfram asked me to be here, you can't say the same."

The quiet challenge in Yuuri's words and the subtle shift of his body into an aggressive stance actually put Hanreid off for a moment. That brought the beginnings of a smile to Wolfram's face. So many people underestimated his wimp, forgetting that beneath the naiveté and sweet demeanor lurked the spirit that brought final defeat to the Originators.

"I am his husband by tribute bond. I don't need permission for anything where it comes to my wolf cub." Hanreid turned his harsh eyes on him and Wolfram felt his stomach clench. "My love, tell him what he needs to hear."

The mild tone hid threat and promise. Sick at heart, Wolfram eased his grip on the double black's hand. Yuuri tightened his.

"Wolf, don't!"

Hanreid's lips stretched in triumph.

Another brutal contraction caught him off guard and Wolfram screamed. Warm arms cradled him through it. Yuuri whispered "It's okay, I'm here" into his hair.

Huge hands grabbed him by the shoulders and nearly dragged him out of Yuuri's hold. Disbelief pierced Wolfram's rioting emotions as he realized he'd become the prize in a tug of war.

"Give him to me!"

"Get your hands off him!"

His brothers crashing into the room to drag a furious Hanreid away from them. It might have devolved into an all-out brawl if Gisela hadn't stormed in.

"What the hell is going on in here? This is an infirmary! I will NOT have my patient disturbed!"

Gwendal rumbled, furious, "Hanreid was assaulting our brother."

"Lies!"

"Everyone. Shut. UP!"

Once again the petite, green-haired woman proved herself the ruler of her domain. The looks on everyone's faces was precious! Wolfram wished he had Murata's picture device to preserve it for history. New pain swept through him and the moment lost its humor.

Hanreid, captive between his brothers, cleared his throat and smiled confidently, "I was simply claiming my rightful place at my husband's side. Wolfram will tell you he welcomes my presence if his conniving brothers will let him. Is that not so, my love?"

That there was no sign of the sorcerer chilled his heart. It meant no one was safe if he defied Hanreid in this. Yet his instincts practically screamed that the man must not be anywhere near him during the birth.

"It is not. I don't want you here," Wolfram gasped out, breaking the dam on emotions that had so little outlet for more than a year. "I won't have you here! If you don't leave now I swear I'll get out of this bed and strangle you with my bare hands!"

Hanreid went still, as if time stopped in the space he occupied. Slowly the smile crawled from his face to leave it cold and flat except for the eyes and the promise in them.

"You will think better of your words when you mind is clearer." He shook off Gwendal's and Conrart's grips on his arms, straightened his tunic, and smoothed his hair back into place. "I will be in the waiting area when you do."

He left under his own power with Gwendal right behind him. Wolfram slumped back on the bed and closed his eyes in utter relief that his drastic words hadn't triggered a much worse response.

"How did he get in here in the first place?" Gisela wondered aloud. "The guards are under orders not to let that man through the door."

"Only two guards were here for Hanreid to ambush and overcome. Your healers are tending their injuries as we speak." Conrart explained, "They and most of the detail on the infirmary came to the stables while Gwendal and I were there. Screams and the sight and smell of fire brought them running to help with what they thought was a disaster. Once they entered, the illusion broke, and we realized what Hanreid had to be up to and we rushed back."

That explained why Hanreid came without the sorcerer at his side. Wolfram's spirits sank.

"There's no stopping him in the end, is there? Hanreid has too much power."

Conrart came to his bedside and gently gripped him by the shoulder. "He will be stopped," he promised. "He has one sorcerer on his side. You've got your family, Yuuri, the Great One, and the resources of Shinou's temple on yours. We will not let him harm you again. Leave Hanreid to us; you focus on your child."

Wolfram couldn't help but nod. Even when they were children, his Little Big Brother had the ability to speak in an assuring tone that made believing him easy.

"Alright, that's all the disruption I'm going to permit." Gisela flapped her hands at them. "Out you go, Lord Weller. We have to get Wolfram ready for the delivery."

She shooed his brother out of the room with a calm efficiency. Wolfram sometimes wondered if her powerful healing gift sometimes augmented the forceful side of her personality. When it came to the welfare of her patients, Gisela could cow the fiercest warrior into docile obedience.

Her two aides entered with warmed blankets, a pitcher of the promised drink and a glass, both wearing sheepish expressions.

"Forgive us, but the stable fire seemed so real. We couldn't stand by while people suffered."

"It is totally understandable, my friends. No blame to you. So never mind. We've work to do." She turned to Yuuri. "Heika, if you will step behind the screen for a few minutes? I need to give Wolfram a more thorough examination."

"Okay." Yuuri, who had immediately grabbed hold of his hand again as soon as he no longer had to fight off Hanreid, squeezed his fingers carefully before letting go and moving out of sight.

With Gisela's and her assistants' help, Wolfram rid himself of his drawstring pajama bottoms and underwear.

"How's the timing of the contractions?"

"There's been a longer time between the last few." Her helpers spread a warmed blanket over him and he sighed into the luxury. It helped with the brief chill when Gisela helped him raise and spread his legs then lifted his nightshirt to check his cervix. "It might be false labor."

Eyes nearly as green as his own lifted to peer at him over the mound of his belly. "Sorry, Wolfram, but you're dilating. This baby will definitely be born in the next few hours." Gentle fingers prodded and moved across his abdomen. "The position is good, no worries for a breach birth. That's a complication we do not want, eh?"

Truly, a surgical extraction without healing magic meant they wouldn't be able to spirit him and the baby to Shinou's temple sanctuary. Even Hanreid must think twice about violating that sanctum.

With the next contraction, his water unexpectedly broke. Clear fluid soaked the bedding under him in a steady flow. Wolfram knew he'd gone even paler and his friend didn't mask her dismay quickly enough. A normal Mazoku labor lasted about eight hours, with the water breaking about 30 minutes before delivery. Things were moving much too fast.

The healers Gisela chose for his delivery proved their worth by efficiently removing the damp blankets and replacing them with the fresh ones they'd brought in earlier. They worked so smoothly that he felt no discomfort at all at their manhandling.

Gisela tugged his clothing down over his knees and she and one of her aides helped him slide back so he lay fully on the bed. After draping the blanket to cover his bare feet, she called out.

"We're done, Heika. Wolfram's water just broke. It won't be long now."

Yuuri came from behind the dressing screen and took the towel from Farica and resumed her task of wiping the sweat from his face. Wolfram grasped the free hand he held out to him. The fingers trembled a little.

"I'm sorry."

"What the heck for?"

"We…" Another contraction caused him to clench his teeth around a groan. He continued when he could talk again, "You've only had a few days to adjust. We should have had months together to prepare for today. We were supposed to have years to mature with each other before we had our first child."

For a moment, that silly, wonderful smile of his erased the worry from Yuuri's face. "So things aren't happening in the right order. We'll have plenty of time to catch up, and all the help we'll need from our families to raise our baby right."

"Our baby?" he whispered back.

"Of course it's our baby, I'm sure of it. Hanreid isn't going to have anything to do with him or her – or you – ever again." Yuuri bent to press their foreheads together. "Have faith in me, Wolf."

The next contraction hit, hard, and didn't stop. Wolfram tried shifting position to ease the pain but that only made it worse. It crushed another scream through his clenched teeth.

"Hold him steady, Heika!"

Wolfram sensed scrambling movements around him. At some point, Yuuri had worked his way onto the bed and behind him so that his back rested against his fiancé's chest. He wrapped his arms around his upper chest and pressed him close.

"It'll be okay," the black-haired boy muttered even as the heart raced with his fear in the chest pressed against his back. "I'm right here."

Wolfram heard confused anxiety in Yuuri's voice and opened his eyes in time to see Farica and Warin rigging a makeshift screen by standing on either side of the bed and stretching a towel between them so he and Yuuri couldn't see what was happening. But it didn't matter for him. Wolfram recognized the growing wooziness as a symptom of rapid blood loss.

In the space of seconds, he went through denial, anger, fear, and at last resignation. So when Gisela rose enough to see over the towel her assistants held in place, he was able to meet her anguished eyes and mouthed the words "Save her" before he let go.

-o0O0o-

At first, he felt relief when Wolfram slumped in his arms, thinking the contraction finally over. But then he didn't move again.

"Wolfram?"

Yuuri shook him a little. The fire demon's head rocked against his collarbone like the head of a badly stuffed ragdoll. Growing frantic, he demanded of the healers, "What's wrong with him? He's passed out!"

Gisela was doing something frantically behind the towel now stained with blood spatter. "He's hemorrhaging, Sire. That last spasm must have torn something inside."

"Can't you try healing him?"

She continued her physical manipulations. "We can't risk his body reacting the way it did before while the baby is still in the birth canal. It will be close. The baby's body is acting to slow the blood loss." Hesitation tinged her voice when she suggested, "It might be best if you waited with the others in reception."

Yuuri felt all the color drain from his face at the implication. He tightened his grip on Wolfram. Never. "I'm staying. I promised him. There's got to be something you can do!"

Healer Farica responded, "Nothing with acceptable risks. We'll apply healing majutsu as soon as the baby's clear, hopefully we'll be in time and his body doesn't reject it."

Moment under the blanket showed Gisela manipulating Wolfram's stomach to assist the baby's passage since Wolfram couldn't push himself. The boy in his arms had gone gray.

They had no more time.

"What about my magic? You said Wolfram and I had to be in sync to sustain the baby. Maybe his body will accept it where it won't everyone else's."

The three healers exchanged glances as they considered the option. His stomach sank brutally when he realized they'd rejected it.

"Even if your magic didn't throw Wolfram into convulsions, you don't have a healer's training." Gisela's voice trembled with the effort to remain objective. "We'll do the best we can, Yuuri, I swear it."

Not enough! Think, Yuuri, think!

"What about the Maoh? Murata says he's been a part of every King of Shin Makoku from the beginning. In that mode, I'd have the knowledge to heal, right?"

Gisela straightened enough for Yuuri to see hope dawn and that fueled his own. When a desperate gamble is all you have….

Wolfram's body shuddered with a wet splashing sound. Gisela ducked behind the sheet again and the healer called Warin joined her, dropping his end of the towel.

So much blood.

"Call him, Yuuri. Call him now!"

In a panic, Yuuri poured his desperation and need into one mental cry.

'Help!'

Maybe the entity inside him had only been waiting for his permission because he was rising before Yuuri even finished the thought, and as his presence submerged his own consciousness, Yuuri heard a baby's cry.

-o0O0o-

The sounds of labor had ceased and a faint baby's cry reached the people waiting in the infirmary reception through the closed door.

He had won.

Smug with his approaching triumph, Hanreid waited for the work of centuries to come to fruition: his son the Maoh's acknowledged heir. He ignored the hard glares aimed his way while he waited with Wolfram's brothers through the delivery. Soon enough they'd have no choice but to accept him on his terms if they wanted to see Wolfram and the baby after this day.

In a very short while Blood Pledge Castle would be his home, his husband at his beck and call to at last resume his proper place in his bed where he'd enjoy him as he deserved. All while his loving family watched helpless to protect him, and the entire kingdom continued to believe him the fiancé of its king. A tragic accident, a decent mourning period followed by a royal wedding, and he would have the throne.

Life was good.

Lady Celi arrived with the human girl who'd been such a useful tool in controlling his wolf cub, no doubt too impatient to wait at a safe distance from him. The former Maoh sent him a look that if it had been backed by majutsu would have burned him to ash on the spot. Gwendal approached them and whispered, no doubt bringing the pair up to date, before leading them to the bench farthest from where Hanreid sat.

Perhaps he'd stay a few days longer. Let them bond with his son before taking him and Wolfram back to Hanreid lands. Imagining Celi's face as he stole away her baby and only grandchild put a smile on his face.

Minutes crawled by with no sound or sign from the birthing room on the far side of the facility. The babe should have been brought out for viewing already. Worried glances flitted between Celi and her sons, and Hanreid found himself growing more anxious, scenarios he had refused to consider raising their ugly heads in his imagination.

He was on the verge of summoning the sorcerer to find out what was going on when the door finally opened. The green-haired healer entered the room wearing a fresh surgical tunic. So she'd taken time to clean up; that explained the delay. She looked weary but happy, an excellent sign.

"As I feared," she reported, "there were complications. Wolfram suffered more blood loss than I'd have liked," her look his way clearly placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, "but he's resting comfortably and will fully recover in a few days."

Good, but more importantly, "What of my son?"

"The baby is fine, just under seven pounds and healthy."

The woman turned a smile on him that cut the legs out from under his confidence.

"She has her bearer's green eyes and her sire's black hair."

Hanreid leapt to his feet in shock as his enemies celebrated. That absolutely could not be!

"Liar. Show me my son!"

"You have no son. But I will proudly present my daughter."

The voice was familiar – and not, deep with a timbre that vibrated in Hanreid's chest. A transformed Yuuri emerged from the infirmary with a blanket-wrapped bundle held gently and protectively in his arms.

He'd never seen the Maoh form before but had extensively interviewed anyone he met who had. From all he knew, this side of Yuuri Heika came out only to dispense justice. Hanreid kept his face neutral with an effort. In all the scenarios he had envisioned and planned for that included this aspect of the half-human Demon King, none included the Maoh emerging from the birthing chamber.

When the tall, slender figure gently folded back the blanket swaddling the newborn, Hanreid stepped as close as Voltaire's outstretched arm permitted to see for himself.

Nakedness exposed, her gender was obvious. She blinked sleepily, granting her audience peeks at eyes the same verdant green of his wolf cub's. Damp, softly curling black hair crowned the tiny head.

Impossible. Impossible!

The relative chill compared to the warm cozy nest of her receiving blanket caused the little one to kick and squirm. Before she decided to give her new voice a workout, the Maoh folded the blanket around her again, cooing – actually cooing – until the baby settled. Once everyone else had a look, the Maoh eased the babe into the healer's waiting arms.

"Gisela, please take Greta to see her father." He smiled at the child standing on tiptoe to see the newborn. "Just as Wolfram promised, eh?"

"Yes, Heika."

The healer held out a hand to the human girl who eagerly took it and left the adults behind. Hanreid caught of glimpse of her expression just before the door cut them off. She might not have been told everything, but apparently the child guessed enough to hate him.

Hanreid ignored her. He had more pressing matters to deal with.

The Maoh's loving expression had vanished when he turned his attention back to him. A pale blue aura rose from his body and the overlong black hair began to lift and dance on currents of majutsu so powerful it caused the hairs on the back of his own neck to stand up. It somehow backlit the cat-slit black eyes so they seemed to glow.

"My daughter," the Maoh whispered with barely suppressed fury. "My Wolfram."

Something in his stomach churned and with a sense of disbelief Hanreid recognized it as the first stirring of fear.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Did you guess right? I wanted to make the birth scene as realistic as possible so I researched labor and childbirth on the Internet while I wrote this chapter. Every mother out there deserves a medal!_

_January's going to be a busy month so I won't get the next chapter up as fast as this one. Watch for 16 in about a month._

_Thanks again for reading! Please review, your feedback is welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Yuuri and Wolfram have a beautiful, healthy daughter. Hanreid does not have the son he schemed for, but he is far from defeated. Be here for __**Chapter 16: I Keep What Is Mine.**_


	16. I Keep What Is Mine

Rating: M

_AN: Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading and making this story a favorite. My apologies for not updating as soon as I'd planned. I took on a couple of projects and didn't have as much time to type. I've already started typing the next chapter and will get it up as soon as I can. Read on and thanks again!_

_This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 16: I Keep What Is Mine**

The Maoh did not take on the gigantic proportions spoken of in the tales Hanreid had heard. That did nothing to diminish his power; in fact it seemed to concentrate it, making him almost impossibly intimidating.

Hanreid stood his ground but it took every ounce of his will.

"My daughter," the Maoh repeated. "She is no child of yours. This alone nullifies your perverse marriage to Wolfram von Bielefeld." The long black hair writhed like agitated serpents and the blue glow intensified. "Nothing will nullify the crimes you committed against him: kidnapping, rape, torture, blackmail, and the murder of innocent after innocent. All this to steal a throne you have no right to."

Hanreid barked a single laugh and casually snapped his tunic into place, making sure to press the lowest button with his thumb. "All lies contrived to deny me what is mine."

His enemy only stared. "I hear my people's cries for justice, none more clearly than the dead."

A hand lifted, palm up, and water began to rise from the floor in a swirling column that evolved into a fierce coiling dragon the pale blue of topaz. Hanreid stepped back but it followed him in a rising tide that surrounded him like a wall. Facing them with disdain, he challenged, "What do you intend to do? Drown me, dump my body in a lake weighed down with stones, and pray I'm never found? You don't have what it takes – or rather the boy you ride doesn't. Arrest me and there'll be a trial. Before I'm through, everyone in Demon and human lands will see Wolfram as a whore and your brat as my bastard." He shrugged. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

The ebon stare never wavered. "Lord von Voltaire."

"Heika."

The Maoh eyed him with shrewd calculation. "Have this…person put someplace where he can't do any more harm. My dragon will keep him there but set a guard as well. As for the sorcerer, if he hasn't already abandoned his master and fled," he lifted his hand again and five more water dragons appeared and sped off in all directions, "I will deal with him."

The half breed drew his blade. Voltaire crossed to the infirmary entrance and summoned two guards wearing his uniform who entered the infirmary with swords drawn.

"Bring him and follow me."

Hanreid obeyed the prodding of the blades aimed at his throat and back. Not that they were needed. The swirling coils of the water dragon moved in the Aristocrat's wake and dragged him along with it. He was taken across the courtyard, suspiciously empty of witnesses, and into the main entry hall of the castle. They marched him down two flights of stone stairs into a windowless sublevel. From the dusty crates and burlap sacks piled here and there, Blood Pledge Castle's dungeon had become a repository of things not quite useless enough to throw away.

Some of the cells were still empty. Voltaire produced a key from somewhere and opened the one farthest from the entrance and with the best vantage for his guards to watch him from a distance.

"Do you really think you can hold me here?"

Voltaire shocked him by stepping aside to open a path back – with the three other soldiers forming a gauntlet. "You're welcome to die trying to escape. I'm sure Yuuri will understand, and we most certainly won't lose sleep over the necessity."

Hanreid recognized he had no chance and lifted his hands in surrender. The water dragon pulled him inside the cell and Voltaire locked him in. He arched an eyebrow when it expanded to allow him to move about the confined space, even sleep on the musty cot if he had the nerve, but stopped one foot from the bars.

"He sees and speaks to no one," Voltaire told the soldiers as he and his brother left to return to his wolf cub's side.

"Understood, sir."

The two men took up their posts. From their willingness to assist in his slaughter if he'd taken Voltaire up on his offer, Hanreid guessed they knew what he'd done, which meant he had zero chance of fooling them into helping him. Still…

He smiled through the flowing wet barrier and spoke as if he were the one in control. "Excuse me. I'd like fresh bedding. It's been a long day and I'd like to get some sleep. This cot really isn't up to my standards. No? Fine then."

Hanreid sat on the dusty cot with his hands resting across his lap and leaned back against the stone wall. He made no other movement for more than an hour, watching the guards from beneath veiled eyelids.

Their vigilance eased when they believed he was asleep. They began to talk, too softly for him to make out the words – not that he cared a whit, except that it took their attention further from him.

Moving with slow care, Hanreid gripped the bottom button of his tunic between his thumb and forefinger and tore it free, activating the spell. He dropped it on the bed and stood, looking on the solid seeming image of himself dozing in the same posture he'd held so long that took his place. He warily eyed the water dragon. It remained quiet, watching the false image of him and showing no awareness of his magical deception.

The sorcerer had worked a fascinating piece of sorcery, but it wouldn't last forever. He needed to act before it faded away.

In the instant he finished the thought, a portal opened and Hanreid stepped through it into a room that must be the castle laundry. The shelves lining the walls were filled with folded sheets and blankets, and the smell of strong soap and cedar hung in the air. The sorcerer stood in the middle of it like a disembodied shadow.

"Are we secure?"

"This is the castle's off-season storage. No one will bother us here."

"Good." Hanreid reached out, grabbed a handful of robe in his two hands and shook the man hard enough to make his head snap. "The child isn't mine! You swore Wolfram was a virgin, you swore he carried my son! Explain yourself before I choke what's left of our life out of you."

"You are the first and only person to lie with young Wolfram," came the irritatingly calm reply from within that cavernous hood. "You were there when I confirmed his untouched state."

"Then how do you explain the baby – a girl yet – having jet black hair?"

The other man said nothing for some time. Hanreid twisted the cloth tight around his throat, "Well?"

In a choked voice, the sorcerer gasped, "The child must be an extraduce."

"A what?"

"The babe is soul born, conceived between two perfectly matched souls."

The words soul born triggered a memory of a rumor that had circulated through the nobility before the war. Some noble's daughter had tried to cover her indiscretion by claiming the child she carried was extraduce. As he recalled, the family responded by placing her in a temple but she ran off with her secret lover and the story spread. The scandal ruined her family. No one believed soul born existed anymore. The girl should have come up with a better lie.

"Extraduce conception is a myth."

The robed shoulders lifted in a restricted shrug. "That is because the phenomenon occurs so rarely. There have been a few suspected cases over the last several centuries but none could be proven."

"You're too well informed about a supposedly mythical event." His frown deepened. "That folklore book you were reading a few days ago. You were researching this extraduce possibility even then. How long have you suspected the baby wasn't mine?"

"My Lord, it is becoming increasingly difficult to breathe."

Hanreid let the sorcerer go. He still needed him after all. He wasted seconds catching his breath before answering the question.

"I didn't suspect, My Lord. I truly was only reading that book for pleasure. That it mentioned extraduce in one of the tales was simple coincidence."

No doubt a lie, but he let it pass. He had more urgent issues to deal with. Hanreid began pacing the small space as he factored the new information into his plans.

"It explains much. Celi and her brood must have believed it possible and delayed signing the contract I offered on the chance the child wasn't mine." He jabbed a finger at the spellcaster. "If they knew enough to suspect, why didn't you?"

The sorcerer excused his failure with "I had no reason to think otherwise. As for an extraduce pregnancy, nothing indicated the possibility, even if I had believed the myths true at the time. That takes a perfect meshing of two souls destined for each other, 'a love to surpass all loves' as poets spout. Based on what we knew of the relationship between Lord von Bielefeld and Yuuri Heika, this baby ought to have been impossible."

His last words pulled Hanreid back on track. "Von Bielefeld. Thanks to this child, my wolf cub is no longer my husband. I no longer have the legal right to him or a direct line to the throne." His lips spread into a hard slow smile at the solution dawning in his mind. "We have less than an hour before the doppelganger spell fails and they know I've escaped. We must be gone by then."

Boney hands lifted to create the portal. Hanreid grabbed his wrist before he began the spell.

"Wait. Do you have enough magic to take us back in time a few hours?"

"You wish to retake your husband just before the child's true parenting is exposed. A fascinating thought." Curiosity at the possibilities gave his words more life than the magic user normally expressed. He shot the idea down in the next breath. "But I have no idea of the ramifications of interfering that directly with an established event in time. Not to mention exposing bearer and child to those magical forces at that point in the delivery."

"Damn! I could have raised the Maoh's true heir as my own with no one the wiser."

The sorcerer's voice took on a manipulating edge. "You can still raise the child, My Lord. I have enough magic to open a gate to the infirmary and from there to your manor house. A rescue attempt cannot reach there before I have harvested enough energy to transport us and the child to a time and place where none will interfere."

"You mean the three of us and Wolfram. Don't even think of leaving him behind. I will not give him up."

The sorcerer hesitated. Hanreid practically heard the grinding of teeth as the magic wielder cut off any argument otherwise. He smiled at the man fuming in silence. "Think of him as insurance. If this infant doesn't thrive, I'll need him to make another."

To his surprise, the cowl-covered head shook in negation of his demand all the same. "I barely have enough magical energy to create the portal as it is, My Lord. I've used too much magic hiding myself and now you from the water dragons searching for me. Making a portal powerful enough to transport four beings will increase the difficulty of the casting. At my current strength, the gate will be less stable."

Hanreid wondered at the reluctance. Distrust grew in his gut. Surely the man already knew the answer to that problem, as he did. What was he up to?

"This castle is full of people. Siphon what life force you need from them if you have to, but make it happen!"

"Yes, my Lord."

-o0O0o-

Yuuri bent over the bassinet next to Wolfram's hospital bed where the baby – his and Wolfram's daughter – slept, long sable lashes stark against her pale skin. He couldn't wait for her to wake so he could see how green her eyes were for himself. He gently touched a stray curl of black hair, it was incredibly soft. He'd seen plenty of babies being walked in the park back on Earth, but none of them had been such tiny perfection. He lifted his gaze to Wolfram, still exhausted but smiling happily back.

In the time the Maoh held sway, Wolfram had been cleaned up, dressed in fresh clothes, and he and the baby moved to another room. When Gisela allowed Greta and the rest of his family a brief visit, they'd seen no sign of the last traumatic hours.

"Oh, Wolf, she's beautiful!"

"Of course she is, look at her parents." Propped up by fresh pillows and with a woolen shawl draped over his shoulders, Wolfram shrugged and added, "Well, give me a week or so; then look."

He moved to Wolfram's side and gave him a quick hug. "Nonsense, you look fine!" In fact, the only signs remaining of his ordeal were the fading circles under his eyes, hollowed cheeks, and the wasted fingers of the hands resting over his much reduced stomach. The wool sweater he wore looked more like a coat on him. His color had come back and his eyes shown bright green again. "Now that we can use healing magic on you again, we'll have you back to yourself in no time."

At least physically. Yuuri hadn't missed the way Wolfram first tensed when he walked into the room. Stray sounds still made him jump sometimes. Even knowing Hanreid was locked up in a cell guarded by the best men from the troops Gwendal and Conrad commanded as well as warded by the Maoh's water dragon didn't help. Wolfram had lived on the edge of fight or flight with neither an option for too long.

"Any sign of the sorcerer?"

"No." He pushed a few strands of the golden hair off Wolfram's forehead and wished it was as easy to take his fears away. "The dragons the Maoh sent to find him came back empty handed so to speak. We have guards searching but so far no sign. The rest of his entourage has asked for sanctuary here. Hanreid isn't even liked by his own people."

Wolfram snorted, "Hanreid trusts no one enough to inspire loyalty in return. Not even from that sorcerer of his."

Yuuri jumped on that, hoping to ease his worry. "Yeah. I'll bet the minute he realized we arrested his master, the sorcerer opened a portal and went to someplace where we can't reach him."

He wished he actually believed that.

Wolfram's head rolled on the pillow so his gaze fell on the sleeping infant. "What is going to happen with Hanreid?"

"I'd like to lock him away in the deepest, darkest dungeon on the planet and leave him to rot." Yuuri stretched out on the other side of Wolfram's bed so they lay shoulder to shoulder. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Every option we've discussed has bad fallout. I really don't want to bring him to trial."

"Why not?"

"For one, you might have to testify. I won't put you through that."

"What other choice do we have, Yuuri? I'm the only first-hand witness to his crimes who still lives." The hands neatly folded across his blanket-covered stomach began to tremble. With a softly muttered curse, Wolfram laced his fingers together and clenched them tight until they stopped. He took a deep breath. "I have to do it, Yuuri. I'm not his only victim. He's done murder and worse. If we let him get away with this, I won't be the last. Any suffering he causes from this day forward will be on our heads."

"A trial where you testify means Hanreid gets to testify too. That is not an option, Wolfram. I know what happens to you if people believe Hanreid's lies. You know some will no matter the evidence."

"It doesn't have to be an open trial. Call a hearing of the Ten Aristocrats and I will testify before them. Any number of the crimes Hanreid has committed merit a death sentence. When they know all he's done, he will be found guilty. That is our best chance of stopping him with minimum fallout." Wolfram reached out and Yuuri caught his hand in his. "Hanreid won't give up on ruling the Demon Kingdom. He needs a child of his blood in line for the throne, and that means he'll be coming for me again sooner or later if we don't stop him now."

A tiny part of him had tried to hope Wolfram didn't realize his continuing danger, but he'd known how slim that chance was. The fire wielder might look his age, even a little younger, but he'd lived decades longer as a prince in a kingdom at war most of his life.

"Do you think he can?" He felt heat flood his cheeks. "Make you pregnant I mean?"

As he'd pretty much expected, Wolfram nodded. "Hanreid leaves nothing to chance. He waited until he was sure he'd succeed before he kidnapped me. All those things they did to me – the drugged food, the tainted air. I felt something changing inside me, Yuuri. If I hadn't already been pregnant, the baby in that bassinet would have been his."

"Trying him before the Aristocrats is better than the alternatives," Wolfram brought them back on topic. "If you order him executed without a trial, it will hurt you in ways you can't understand. Imprisoning him indefinitely isn't possible while the sorcerer is free. He's devious enough to escape on his own without magical help. Exile isn't an option either; it'll only mean he can plot far from our ability to watch him. He'll be able to strike without warning. Everything we care about, everyone we love would be in danger."

Wolfram had the right of it. Even in their dungeon and under guard non-stop, the man must be plotting his next move. Yuuri rolled his head on the pillow to look at the other boy. Wolfram turned to look back with eyes haunted by memories.

"I'll do whatever it takes, Yuuri." He swallowed audibly, "I don't want to ever fall into his hands again."

Yuuri heard reluctance in his voice when Wolfram said that last bit, as if his need to protect himself was somehow wrong, selfish. He gave the hand in his grasp a firm squeeze.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting that, Wolf. We all want that for you."

The shadows didn't lift from the expressive green eyes and Yuuri set out to distract him from whatever thoughts caused them.

"Baby isn't a name."

"…What…?"

Yuuri smirked and sat up. He jerked his chin in the direction of the bassinet and its precious occupant. "Our daughter. We haven't given her a name yet."

He watched as Wolfram's head rolled back on his pillow and gazed on the infant sleeping beside them. And just like that everything about him somehow relaxed. She was the balm to his spirit, a gift, the one good to come out of all the bad he'd suffered.

"You are her father; that is your duty."

Yuuri teased gently, "And risk complaints over my wimpy choice? Seriously, I want you to choose her name. I just know whatever you pick will suit her better than anything I come up with."

Wolfram fake scowled at him. "Yuuri…!"

"Okay, okay." He thought for several seconds before inspiration came through. "How about Lyssa? It was the name of a princess in a movie back home. She wielded fire, sort of."

"Lyssa."

At the sound of Wolfram testing the feel of the name, the baby's eyes opened slightly and she burbled before going back to sleep. Yuuri chuckled and Wolfram met his grin with a smile of his own.

"I think she likes it," Yuuri concluded.

"You've chosen a good name. I like it too. So will Mother and everyone."

"My mom too. The princess in that movie was beautiful and brave, and she always said she wanted any daughter she had to be both too." An idea took root in his head. "Then it's settled and we can introduce her properly to her other grandparents and uncle."

Wolfram turned confused eyes on him.

Yuuri asked, "What do you think of you, Greta, and Lyssa staying with my family on Earth until this is over. Hanreid and his sorcerer can't reach you there."

Wolfram shook his head. "We can't take a newborn through the whirlpool."

The idea grew and developed even as they spoke. "We can rig a watertight container. Better still, I can form an air bubble around us so we have air." He cupped his hand and a pool of water formed over his palm and rose up as if flowing around an invisible ball. "We might even get there dry!"

Pale brows arched up. "Since when have you been able to do that?"

"The Maoh did it first, when he captured Hanreid." Yuuri tapped his temple. "The how of it is still in my head. Maybe because the water trap is still holding him in the dungeon. I'll practice until I get it right first. So what do you say?" He gave Wolfram the puppy-eyed look that had gotten him plenty of ice cream when he was younger.

Wolfram snorted, "You will never lose your reputation as a wimp if you keep doing things like that. I for one can see right through you."

"But you'll go, right?"

He saw the familiar stubbornness mask his face but it gave way to practicality. "It's a good plan. Hanreid won't be able to use our daughters' well being against us. And without me in reach, we thwart his plans to rule. Also," Wolfram admitted, "I think it might be good for me to get away for a little while."

"Great!" Yuuri got off the bed and walked around to kiss the top of Lyssa's head. Wolfram looked exhausted and worried when he turned back to him. He leaned in to press his forehead to the other boy's and felt him flinch then steel himself for the contact. Wolfram turned immediately to their daughter when he broke the contact.

A knock and Gisela entered with a baby bottle in her hand. "I hate to interrupt but it's time for the little one's first feeding."

Wolfram sat up and reached for Lyssa. Yuuri moved, "Don't strain too much. Let me." He lifted the baby out of the bassinet – she barely weighed a thing – and gave her into Wolfram's eager arms. She woke to look around with eyes as emerald green as her bearer's. Oh, they were going to have to beat the boys away with big sticks when she was older. But that was years and years off. Time then to worry about that.

He told Gisela, "It's okay. I've got to meet with Gwendal and Gunter to deal with some kingdom stuff anyway." He turned to Wolfram who held the baby much more naturally than he had. "But I'll be right back so we can start making plans. Get some sleep or Gisela will won't let me back in. Right?"

"Completely," the healer announced with such conviction, Yuuri began to think she wasn't teasing like he was.

Wolfram sighed and reached for the bottle Gisela stepped closer to hand to him. "Alright. Don't take too long."

"Promise."

Yuuri paused in the doorway to look back. Wolfram had settled back into the pillows the green-haired healer piled up against the headboard. Lyssa cradled in his left arm, he teased her mouth with the bottle's nipple while Gisela watched with a happy smile.

"So, does she have a name yet?"

"Lyssa."

He had a daughter.

In a kind of awed daze, Yuuri closed the door quietly on the adorable scene. A steaming protectiveness surged through him, fueled by two souls. He faced the guards stationed in the common area and the four men straightened to attention with sharp salutes. Yuuri recognized them from the rescue party at the start of this whole mess. Gwendal was doing a great job of keeping the truth to a small circle of people.

He'd never given orders to soldiers before. To be honest, he hadn't given a real order of any kind yet. Imitating Gwendal's or Conrart's style felt wrong so he simply asked.

"Please take care of them."

"With all we have, Heika," one spoke for all.

Reassured, Yuuri walked through the common area to where Murata waited for him at Gisela's desk.

-o0O0o-

Gisela folded diapers while she watched him as he fed his daughter for the first time. Lyssa resisted the bottle at first, but that didn't last beyond the moment she realized something nice and warm came out when she suckled.

"We can arrange for a wetnurse if you'd like," she suggested. "With a nanny, you'd be able to return to active duty in months rather than years."

"No."

Lyssa finished her meal and he cuddled her against his chest. Settled in the cradle of his arm, she peered up at him with bright, curious eyes. Wolfram set the bottle on the bed tray and shifted her to shoulder and rubbed her back in slow circles until she burped. Lyssa gave a happy sounding sigh and went to sleep. The most amazing sense of calm and love washed through him and he pressed his lips to the soft curls. He found Gisela watching him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," she giggled and patted the last diaper onto the stack. "I just never imagined a maternal Wolfram. You were bound and determined to be a soldier as long as I've known you. It's sweet."

"I am not sweet."

"Whatever you say." She bent closer to take Lyssa from his arms.

"Can't she sleep with me?"

Gisela gathered his child up with the tender care she deserved. He felt bereft.

"You know better than that. I want you to sleep too. Deep, quality sleep." She tucked the baby in with practiced hands. "You won't get that fretting over little Lyssa."

"I'll watch her anyway."

"And drift off more easily without worrying she might roll off the bed if you fall asleep." She gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Now do as your healer says so your family can stop worrying about you. Honestly, your baby is proving a better patient than her bearer."

Wolfram returned her mock fierce scowl with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, very well."

The healer left with a parting shot over her shoulder, "And don't give my staff a hard time."

Wolfram squirmed about until he was comfortable – a much easier task now that his stomach wasn't so huge – and gazed down into the bassinet at his child, his miracle.

He didn't remember much of the delivery. In fact he hadn't expected to wake up in this world again. The sensation of powerful healing magic carried his awareness back to the surface on a green wave of warm energy. Under its force, the last dregs of the drugs and magical corruption that plagued his body flowed out of him like sand before a tidal wave.

Blearily, he'd opened his eyes to find himself wrapped in the arms of the transformed Maoh. The dome of green light surrounding them both cast the stern though handsome face into dancing shadows and tingled across his own skin. Before he even had time to worry, a glowing hand tenderly stroked his cheek.

"Our precious one is fine. Lie quiet a while longer. When this healing is done, they will bring her to you."

Her. He slumped, almost sick with relief, and let the Maoh work. Gisela's assistants moved about clearing away the instruments and taking down the delivery setup, all the while trying to remain nonchalant in the face of their King's other persona.

A cool finger traced a random pattern on his forehead and Wolfram felt a sensation like a cool breeze blowing through his head. It wasn't particularly comfortable and he closed his eyes against the unpleasant feeling until it passed.

On opening them again, the room seemed brighter, though nothing about the lighting had changed. He gazed up at the smiling Maoh in wonder.

"Yours is a determined spirit. They shadowed your mind and heart in order to control you. Much of the fear and confusion you experienced they created with sorcery and potions. The last of that influence is gone, and I have healed your body as far as I can. I cannot rebuild the blood and weight you lost, nor remove the shadows left from your experiences. Full healing will have to come with time and rest."

The Maoh gathered him more securely in his arms and carried him from the birthing chamber to his infirmary room. A fresh hospital gown, socks, and a warm wool sweater along with hot water and towels waited.

"I want to see my baby."

"Soon."

The two attending healers followed them into the room and soon had him washed, dressed, and tucked into the freshly made bed. He appreciated their efforts, but by the time they finished, Wolfram's patience had thinned to nonexistence.

"Where is she? I demand to see her now!"

The Maoh lifted an eyebrow at him but otherwise didn't respond. The infirmary staff on the other hand moved faster gathering up basin, soiled clothes, and wet towels and practically fled.

A happy laugh preceded Gisela who slipped into the room around her fellow healers with a squirming bundle in her arms.

"Much more like it. That's the closest you've sounded like yourself in far too long."

Wolfram stretched out his arms, anxious to see with his own eyes that his baby was indeed alright.

"She's a fine, healthy girl, my friend and none of Hanreid's."

Gisela eased the baby onto his arms and tenderly folded back the corners of the receiving blanket.

Wolfram stared. In the space of a second, he finally understood his mother's obsessive need to protect him and his brothers whether or not they needed – or wanted – it. Everything in him loved this little miracle. He'd deny her nothing; give anything to keep her safe and ensure her happiness.

"She's beautiful," he whispered and touched the gently curling coal black head of hair. She blinked sleepily and Wolfram glimpsed eyes as green as his own.

"I never expected differently given her heritage." Gisela leaned in to give him and the baby a carefully enthusiastic hug. "Congratulations, Wolfram. I am so happy for you! Now I'd better go tell the rest of your family before they tear the walls down."Wolfram looked up at the Maoh. If he had died, he'd have never held his daughter, lost the chance to watch her grow up.

"Thank you."

The Maoh traced a gentle finger along his cheek. "I could do nothing less."

With those words Wolfram saw in those all-encompassing eyes something that left him speechless.

Raised voices – one in particular – broke the moment. Wolfram's stomach knotted with panic and fear, but before it choked him, the Maoh leaned down and kissed his brow.

"Be at peace. You and your child are safe. Now if you will permit me, it is time for Hanreid to learn this truth and face the justice he has incurred."

Wolfram had watched the tall majestic figure carry their daughter out to meet her family. A part of him wanted to see Hanreid's face as his twisted dreams of conquest fell apart but he had to admit he wasn't in any condition for a confrontation. That time would have to wait for another day.

For now, the marriage that had bound him to Hanreid was nullified by evidence that he wasn't the baby's father, and the man responsible for so much pain and grief sat in prison awaiting sentencing. As for the sorcerer, the man had the instincts of a viper. Now that his patron no longer had the power to give the sorcerer whatever he had bargained for his aid, Wolfram hoped the man would cut his losses. He doubted he'd ever be found if he chose that road. If not….

Wolfram had glimpsed the guards outside his door. Gwendal and Conrard both swore before leaving him to rest that, until they caught the sorcerer, the best majutsu wielders in Shin Makoku would guard him and Greta.

He leaned closer to again touch the tiny little fist and smiled even wider when little fingers opened to close around his finger.

"Welcome home," he whispered, and watched her until his eyes eventually drifted closed and stayed that way as Wolfram joined his daughter in peaceful sleep.

-o0O0o-

Murata got to his feet and they headed out together, passed the thankfully empty treatment stations, out of the infirmary, and into the center courtyard.

"I heard how you handled that. You did a good job, Shibuya."

A shudder went through him. "God, I hope so. He flinched when I touched him, Murata, and then he wouldn't look at me, as if he was ashamed of reacting like that. I don't know what to do."

"Like I said, be there for him. It's going to take time. Sending him, Greta, and the baby to our world for the time being is a good idea." The eyes behind the round lenses crinkled in thought. "I heard that the sorcerer is still unaccounted for. We'll figure out a way to find him." He gave him a shrewd look. "But I don't think that's the worry putting that frown on your face."

Yuuri sighed and tried to put a calmer expression on his face. He had to be able to hide his emotions better. If Wolfram or Greta saw through him as clearly as Murata, he'd make them both worry even more. "Did you hear me tell Wolfram that I didn't want him testifying when we bring Hanreid to trial?"

"Sure. You made perfect sense even without letting him know about the evidence we have."

They'd crossed the courtyard and entered Blood Pledge Castle on the other side. Yuuri spotted a bench and sat down. With elbows on his knees, he folded his hands under his chin and stared up at his nearly life-long friend.

"Protecting Wolfram isn't the only reason I wish we didn't have to do this." His voice came out a whisper and Murata sat next to him to hear better. He stared straight ahead, not sure he wanted the other boy to see what might be in his eyes. "He'll be found guilty, Murata. The sentence for the things he's done is death."

"And you don't know how to handle it because you've never killed before," the Wise Man incarnate guessed.

"No." He backpedaled, "Well, yes, that's partly it. Murata, I hate that man, so much it makes my stomach burn to think about him. I used to say that about people and things before. It floors me how naive I've been." He struggled over the words to express his chaotic thoughts. "It's not so much that I will sentence him, but that deep down I'll do it for all the wrong reasons. That's the kind of person I don't ever want to be."

"Hmmm."

"'Hmmm'?" Yuuri turned his head to stare at him. "I pour my heart out to you and that's all you have to say?"

Murata's head gave a single sharp nod. "Exactly, and that's why you deserve better than an off-the-cuff response from me. One thing I can tell you is relax. If, and that's a pretty big if, it comes to a trial, it won't be public. Hanreid will stand before the Ten Aristocrats, well maybe nine since he can successfully argue that as Wolfram's brother, Gwendal must recuse himself. They will hear all our evidence, weigh it against whatever lies he tries to defend his actions with, make a ruling and decide the appropriate sentence. You'd only be called on if there's a tie, which won't be possible with an odd number of Nobles."

Yuuri swallowed around the lump in his throat. Somehow he didn't feel any better about it.

Murata went on, "The convicted is given the choice of poison or hanging. The logic is the one instrumental in the crimes must be instrumental in the punishment, a way of forcing acceptance of responsibility."

"That's weird logic. What if they refuse to pick?"

"Then the victim, their next of kin, or the Ten Aristocrats pick. Historically, criminals prefer to choose themselves, either to deny their victims personal revenge or to ensure the comparatively easier death by poison."

A shudder rippled through Yuuri. "Don't they have prison terms here?"

Murata's head shook. "Shin Makoku isn't industrialized yet. All its resources must be devoted to everyday survival. There's nothing to spare for maintaining a viable prison system. People who commit lesser crimes work it off by doing service for both the government and the victim. Rape and murder here are considered crimes against the entire community. The criminal has either deprived it of a contributing member and all of that person's potential or done enough harm to deprive it of that person's contributions for an extended period of time. Not to mention all the people connected to them who are affected. Why harm itself further by wasting energy, food, and labor hours keeping someone alive and locked up who isn't giving anything back."

"That seems brutal."

"It's a matter of survival. As King you will have to keep that in mind with every decision you make."

Suddenly Yuuri wanted to crawl under a blanket and pretend he was someone else. "I'm not ready for this."

"You most certainly are not."

Yuuri stared at Murata who wore a solemn expression. He wasn't sure whether to be happy or offended at his emphatic agreement.

"And no one expects you to be. You're still young and not just in years. But you have a team of loyal advisers and supporters who care for you both as king and a person. Never forget that. As for your perfectly legitimate feelings, no human being can make a decision like this totally divorced from their emotions. The nobles who will judge Hanreid have all known Wolfram since he was a baby. Oh, they've had their clashes over the years, but they will have to wrestle to make impartial judgment as well. It's one of the reasons I advised you to call Hanreid's bluff when he made his ultimatum rather than sign his contract. He knows that no one on that hearing panel would sympathize with him. I doubt he expected that response from us. The suspicion that we might know something more than he wanted us to undermined his confidence, at least a little."

"Nice to know we gave him a few sleepless nights," Yuuri snorted. He stood with a burst of renewed energy. "We'd better get going before Gwendal sends guards looking for us."

They reached Gwendal's office and Yuuri knocked on the closed door. Yosak opened it for them just enough to slip in and closed it behind them. The tall redhead strode back to the desk where Gwendal and Conrad were sorting through a pile of message slips – the message doves had been busy – and none of them looked happy.

"What's wrong?"

Yosak raised his head, his normally jovial expression grim. "One of our patrols cornered the sorcerer at the inn where Hanreid originally stayed when they arrived here, but he still slipped their net. He locked himself in a bedroom and was gone by the time they broke in. He had to have used that portal spell of his, there was no other way out."

Gwendal added, "We had soldiers experienced in offensive and defensive battle against both houryoku and maryoku combatants embedded with each of the patrols. He should not have been able to use magic to escape."

Damn! Yuuri tried to reason it out. "So does that means the magic he's using isn't human or Mazoku?"

Murata's mind ran leaps and bounds ahead of his. "I don't think so. If a third kind of magic existed in Shin Makoku, I would have heard of it at some point in one of my lifetimes. More likely he's using one or the other in so twisted a manner that conventional counters simply don't work. I wish we had some way of learning more about it."

Yuuri pulled out a chair and flopped into it. Murata did the same but with more decorum. "What do you think his next move will be?"

"He'll attempt to rescue his master." Yosak leaned back against the wall behind him and crossed his arms. "We've had Hanreid's escort watched since their arrival. My people have talked with each of them over the last few days, and I spoke with the captain of Hanreid's guard myself over drinks in a tavern last night. He said that the two of them always had their heads together over some plot, thicker than thieves though he doesn't think they're friends. My guess is that Hanreid gives the man something he wants or needs. It's a partnership of convenience. Neither man is much liked. In fact, the captain requested amnesty and a chance to apply for one of our military units on behalf of himself and his men. None of them want to remain in Hanreid's service. According to reports, several volunteered for the escort in hopes of the chance to desert. When it comes to replacing the Lord of the Hanreid lands, I doubt we'll have any problems with the citizenry."

Report done, Yosak's expression lightened and he grinned at him. "And how are our Little Lord Brat and the newest princess?"

"Resting," Yuuri grinned back, all too glad turn the talk to a happier subject. "We named her Lyssa."

Gwendal nodded approval. "A fine name; suitable for a future Maoh."

Yuuri's eyes went wide, "She's years and years from that, Gwendal. Give her time to be a kid, okay?"

"Of course, Heika."

He realized that he was serious on that point. Yuuri knew that only he and Murata in that room had anything like a normal childhood. Everyone in Blood Pledge Castle did their best to ensure the rest of Greta's growing years held nothing like the misery of the first few. He was determined Lyssa didn't have any bad years.

Conrad winked his way. "Don't mind my brother. He's just relieved you didn't choose an unsuitable name. Lyssa Heika sounds regal."

Yuuri sounded it out for himself, quite please with the resonance as the words rolled out. "I really didn't think of that at the time, I just like the name. If I'd picked a bad one, I'm sure Wolfram would have set me straight."

"Names are very important, Shibuya. People build their opinions of us on the foundation of our names."

Murata sounded so serious, Yuuri had to wonder. "That's not really true is it?"

An eyebrow rose above the frames of his glasses. "It's why so many actors have stage names. Which is more fitting for a leading man: Rock Hudson or Roy Harold Scherer, Jr.?"

The example served its purpose. "Alright, I believe you. Remind me to make sure you're on my team the next time we play Trivial Pursuit."

Yosak winked, "You need more proof, Heika? Ask Gunter to tell you the history of the 13th Maoh. He wasn't even in consideration in the betting pools. Within weeks of ascending the throne, he had his name legally changed because no one took him seriously. The rumor was his father was drunk when he chose the name, and he was too proud to change it or let anyone else do it. Poor kid had to live with it for decades."

Conrad gave his sword mate a quizzical look. "I'm surprised you recall that. You told me you hated history in school."

The red haired spy shrugged. "Most of those lectures were dry and boring enough to make a sane man want to scream."

Yuuri totally agreed with him on that score.

"That bit was interesting," he concluded, "had me chuckling for weeks."

He leaned a little more toward the man who was smiling at the memory. "Don't leave me hanging! Tell the story."

"Uh, uh. You have to hear it from Lord von Christ. Watching him blush and try to find polite ways of saying … certain things is part of the whole effect."

Next to him, Murata smirked. "He's right, Shibuya. The next time you're lessons get too boring, ask him about the 13th Maoh. Better still, wait until I'm in the castle. That's something I wouldn't mind seeing."

Yuuri tracked from face to face, all of them wearing varying degrees of humor and not one was about to say another word on the subject.

"Aw, come on!"

Gwendal, all serious but with a surprising twinkle in his eyes, simply said, "That is a part of Shin Makoku history. You should hear it from our most learned historian. Perhaps I'll arrange my schedule to be there that day."

Oh, these guys could be so mean!

The lighthearted moment shattered for him when the Maoh's cry of outrage vibrated through his core.

"You've gone white, Shibuya. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. Give me a minute."

Before Yuuri had a change to try to figure out what had happened, the door to Gwendal's office swung open and a panting guard in the uniform of Gwendal's unit burst in.

"Sir! Lord von Hanreid has escaped!"

Yuuri's stomach dropped like a stone and he shoved passed the man and was running for all he was worth toward the infirmary.

-o0O0o-

The sound of someone entering his room reached into dreams filled with drifting shadows and whispered warnings. Wolfram frowned in his sleep.

"I ought to make sure they stay down."

"They aren't ideal subjects to start with. I need them all alive to fuel the spell. Your husband alone isn't going to be enough."

Wolfram recognized the voices even as the familiar draining sensation of the sorcerer leeching away his majutsu stole his strength sent his awareness spiraling into wakeful alarm. Lyssa!

He reached for the bassinet too late. Hanreid had already scooped his baby up in his arms.

"Ah, ah, ah! Can't have that. I am most unhappy with you, my wolf cub. You were supposed to give me a son. This brat caused me to waste an entire year." Lyssa woke and began to cry. Hanreid frowned, "An incredibly noisy brat at that."

Wolfram tried to attack him, but his body collapsed on him and Hanreid darted in close to cover his mouth with his hand before he could shout for help.

"I suppose you want me to put her back."

He nodded frantically, his "Please!" too muffled to be understood. A few feet away, the sorcerer opened a portal smaller and less vibrant than the ones he'd created in the past. Wolfram saw how the skeletal hands shook with the effort of maintaining the spell. He had to hold them here as long as possible. If his strength failed, so would Hanreid's escape route.

"Don't think delaying tactics will help you." Hanreid guessed where his thoughts had led him. "He'll last long enough. We'll be gone before your brother and his men get here. The question is – do I leave with you or with the brat? It's decision time, love. Five…four…"

Wolfram stared at the portal and fought despair. A swirling mist in the opening still hid the destination. He wouldn't be able to leave a clue for Yuuri and his brothers to try and find him. He'd be lost.

"Three…"

Outside the room the sound of crashing glass resounded.

"That's going to bring them running." Hanreid commented as if talking about the weather. "You're out of time, boy. Choose."

Wolfram had known his decision the moment Hanreid gave him the choice. Lyssa safe mattered more than his life.

"Me. I'll come with you." And kill you the first chance I get.

"A wise choice."

The sorcerer left his working to lift him out of the bed with deceptive ease. The abrupt shift set Wolfram's head spinning and he swayed dangerously until the magic wielder gripped his arms. He let Hanreid precede him to the portal. With Lyssa still in his arms.

"No!" Wolfram tried and failed to wrench free of his captor. "We have a deal! Lyssa stays here!"

Hanreid laughed, "Now what kind of a monster would I be to separate a bearer from his newborn child? No, I've decided to keep her as well." He peered down with distaste at the now vigorously wailing baby in the crook of his arm. "Properly trained, she will make an excellent puppet Maoh. Until then, her well being in my hands will ensure your best behavior while I finally get my son on you." The leer sent his way caused Wolfram to cringe back against the chest of the sorcerer restraining him. "Raising the heir to Shin Makoku and her future successor as well as confirming my bond to the 27th Maoh as chosen by the Ten Aristocrats will solidify my hold on the throne when I return to claim it." He canted his head to the side, listening. "We're about to have company. Time to go home."

Hanreid stepped through the hole in the middle of the room with his baby girl. The sorcerer followed on his heels. Heartsick, Wolfram didn't resist.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri arrived to find Gisela and the healer called Warin, tending to the collapsed bodies of two guards and Healer Farica. Yuuri dodged around them and sprinted to Wolfram's room although the stricken gaze Gisela managed to give him as she worked already told the tale.

Both bed and bassinet were empty.

-o0O0o-

_AN: I got the name Lyssa from the princess in the 1983 British fantasy movie __**Krull**__. You can watch clips and trailers on YouTube. Some of the actors went on to become very well known. Watch for one face in particular – you'll recognize it in several big films over the last decade and more. Give yourself a gold star for every famous face you recognize. Some are a challenge after 32 years._

_Thanks as always for reading! Please review, your feedback is welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Wolfram received a promise in a dream, one made to many lost souls over the long years. That promise is about to be fulfilled. Be here for __**Chapter 17: Those Who Waited.**_


	17. Those Who Waited

_AN: This story continues the storyline begun in _The Maoh's Last Command_. It can be read on its own but TLMC is the prequel to this tale._

_Thanks to everyone who followed, reviewed, and made WBTM (and me – wow!) a favorite! This chapter ended up a lot longer than I expected, but it was necessary to set up the final chapters. _

_The rating is for dark themes, spooky stuff, and adult situations (nonconsensual sex and mpreg – nothing graphic and with warnings at the start of the affected chapters). This is not meant for young readers. Please do not read if that describes you or this sort of thing is offensive to you. Everyone else, enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit._

**What Belongs to Me**

**Chapter 17: Those Who Waited**

Yuuri knelt beside Gisela and let her use his magic to fuel her own as she worked to restore the victims of the sorcerer's spell. He saw the worried glances she and Murata kept sending his way but they just didn't register.

He'd failed Wolfram and their baby. Hanreid snatched them right out from under his nose.

"Tell us what happened."

The gentleness in Conrad's voice as he spoke to Healer Farica struck him as incredible under the circumstances until he realized the men and women he'd left to guard them must feel as guilt ridden as he did right now, if not more. They'd been right there and failed.

Farica trembled violently with the physical shock of what she'd suffered and nodded gratefully to his godfather for the blanket he pulled from a nearby bed and draped around her shoulders. She held it tight like a shawl with one hand and wiped away tears with quaking fingers.

Gisela reported with brisk efficiency. "We heard screams coming from the stables. I looked out into the courtyard and saw smoke and fire pouring from the entrance. I ordered Warin and one of the guards to come with me, grabbed our emergency aid kits and ran to help. We burst through a side door only to find the groomsmen staring at us as if we were mad. Not a sign of the inferno we'd seen, smelled, and heard from the infirmary. That's when we realized our arrival had shattered an elaborate hallucinogenic spell. It was so real, Conrart! I truly thought people and horses were dying in agony. It had to be a distraction to reduce the guard on Wolfram. We ran back bringing every guard in our path along but were too late."

Farica took up the tale with, "They appeared out of nothing. The guards called their magic but the sorcerer struck them down with a spell unlike anything I've ever seen before. I tried to ring the alarm bell but he caught me before I reached the rope. He covered my heart with his hand and my body collapsed. I tried to call for help, to move. He'd paralyzed us all. That's when the draining began." She shuddered. "He fed on our maryoku like a leech draining the blood from its prey. Shinou, may I never feel such a vile thing again as long as I live! Lord von Hanreid wanted to kill us but the sorcerer said he needed us to power the spell he was about to cast. I heard them threaten Lord Wolfram. I managed to move my leg enough to upset a tray of specimen jars. I hoped the noise would bring help, but it proved too little too late. They took Lord Wolfram and the baby."

"What now?" Conrad turned to his brother. "They could be anywhere."

Gwendal knelt on the floor a little ways off. He was supporting one of his men while Warin tried to replenish his strength with his own magic, which was no doubt still depleted from the efforts to deliver Lyssa safely.

"Or any when," the eldest brother admitted grimly.

"My lords?"

Healer Farica held up her hand to catch their attention. "They kept us from interfering but I was conscious and able to listen. I knew you'd need intelligence to mount a rescue. I have a very good auditory memory, sirs. I can tell you what Lord von Hanreid said."

She closed her eyes, expression blank, and began to recite. Yuuri stared in amazement. She even got the voice tone right. It creeped him out to hear Hanreid's words come out of her as if she'd been possessed.

"'Don't think delaying tactics will help you. He'll last long enough. We'll be gone before your brother and his men get here. The question is – do I leave with you or with the brat? It's decision time, love. Five…four… three… That's going to bring them running. You're out of time, boy. Choose.'"

" 'Me. I'll come with you.'"

Yuuri recognized the timbre of Wolfram's voice. He sounded brave and scared. Damn it, he should have been here!

"'A wise choice.'"

" 'No! We have a deal! Lyssa stays here!'"

"'Now what kind of a monster would I be to separate a bearer from his newborn child? No, I've decided to keep her as well. Properly trained, she will make an excellent puppet Maoh. Until then, her well being in my hands will ensure your best behavior while I finally get my son on you. Raising the heir to Shin Makoku and her future successor as well as confirming my bond to the 27th Maoh as chosen by the Ten Aristocrats will solidify my hold on the throne when I return to claim it. We're about to have company. Time to go home.'"

She reverted to her own voice and anxiety returned to her pale face. "Please say that will help."

Yuuri felt the hopelessness begin to lift from his spirit. "Hanreid said 'home.' and we know he kept Wolfram on his estate."

"That's a day's ride from here but you can cut that in half pushing the horses. There are relay stations along that road." Yosak sprinted for the exit, his last words trailing after him. "I'll arrange for spare mounts to be waiting and ready for you!"

The spy was gone before Yuuri asked, "But what if he took Wolfram and the baby there but in a different time?"

"I very much doubt that they did," Murata reassured them all, for by their expressions everyone else feared the same. The other double black boy began to pace. "From what Healer Farica heard, the sorcerer's magical energy is drained or he wouldn't have needed to siphon off the majutsu of her and the guards. Moving through time must take an enormous amount of magical force. They'll have gone to ground at Hanreid's manor in this timeline."

Yuuri pushed himself to his feet. "Then we need to go now. We have to get to them before the sorcerer regains enough of his magic to take them beyond our reach. We're getting Wolfram and Lyssa back." He felt the Maoh rise briefly to the surface, causing some of the guards in the room to take wary steps back from him at whatever they saw. Yuuri didn't care, because he and the Maoh were in complete agreement. "And this time we will make certain Hanreid never touches them again."

-o0O0o-

The portal curled in on itself after they passed through. The spellcaster released him and staggered across the flagstone floor to lean against the stone wall of his cellar workroom, gasping as if he'd just run three miles. Without his grip, which had both restrained and supported him, Wolfram had no anchor against the vertigo that sent the world spinning around him. He fought to make the room steady, sending the little healing maryoku he'd built up to his inner ears until the world stayed put. He needed to be steady and alert for Lyssa. The magical travel had not agreed with her and she screamed her misery at the top of her lungs. Hanreid didn't even try to rock her.

Without thinking, Wolfram reached out to comfort her but a glare from Hanreid caused him to abort the move. He made himself pull back a little and try reason. "It's not good for her to cry like that. Give her to me. I can calm her. I won't run. It's not as if I can go anywhere, even if I had the strength."

Hanreid subjected him to the familiar piercing scrutiny that always seemed to reach into every corner of his being to expose any secrets he fought to keep. His captor spun on his heel and stalked over to the sorcerer who now sat crumpled on the floor. He snorted in disgust at the sign of the other man's weakness. "How long before you're up to transporting us again?"

The bent hood shook back and forth wearily. "Not for several hours I'm afraid, My Lord."

"Waste no time. I want to be long gone before Voltaire gets here. You!" Hanreid jabbed a finger at him. "Take the brat and come with me."

Wolfram felt almost sick with relief when he walked up to Hanreid and he at last put his baby in his arms. He gathered Lyssa close, whispering whatever soothing nonsense that came into his head. Hanreid caught him around his waist and walked him out of the sorcerer's chamber.

Servants stared in shock or curiously at the unexpected sight of them but quickly ducked their heads to avoid Hanreid's notice. He swept him passed them at a pace that almost had Wolfram trotting to keep up. His anxiety grew on entering the private wing of the manor and as they drew closer to the spell-shrouded room where he'd been imprisoned. If Hanreid put him in there again, he'd soon be totally helpless and unable to defend Lyssa until help arrived.

He frantically tried to come up with an excuse that didn't raise Hanreid's suspicions. But beyond expectations, his captor walked them passed the dreaded door.

As if sensing his relief and wanting to squelch it, Hanreid warned, "Oh, your lodging is only changing temporarily. I have better use for your maryoku right now than letting the spells in there suck you dry." He dragged him further down the hall to another door at the end of the corridor. He used his free hand to pull a key from inside his shirt and unlocked it. "My suite isn't as secure as your rooms, but it will hold you until we leave."

Wolfram balked when Hanreid shoved the heavy oaken door wide to reveal a huge bed turned down and waiting. Hanreid easily overcame the feeble resistance he managed to put up to drag him inside and kick the door shut. Away from prying eyes, he turned Wolfram too fast for him to react and vised his arms around his waist to trap him against his body.

Trying to twist free and hold Lyssa safe, Wolfram growled, "Let go of me!"

"Relax. Rutting with you is the last thing on my mind at the moment. You obviously aren't capable of enduring my attentions yet. What does concern me is your foolish defiance. I've decided it's time to remind you of your place."

Hanreid's grip tightened and Wolfram desperately leaned back and away from the approaching face. Hanreid laughed in a way that slithered over his skin as he closed the gap and kissed him.

Memories and the terror they conjured paralyzed him, and Hanreid took full advantage to stake his claim once more. Wolfram closed eyes against burning tears as mouth and hands proved just how helpless a victim he'd become.

The thought triggered fury, and the urge to strike back rose up stronger than the fear, taking him by surprise. His free hand clenched into a fist and his arm tensed to deliver a blow that he'd learned long ago in hand-to-hand combat training. Reason stopped him. He'd hurt Hanreid, true, but he didn't dare risk the retaliation that followed, not with Lyssa to think about. Self-preservation and the need to protect her overruled revived instincts, and he didn't act as he wanted to. Instead, Wolfram endured the assault, holding tight to Lyssa who squirmed and whimpered against his shoulder.

The second the grip trapping him slackened, Wolfram shoved free and lurched out of reach. The backs of his legs bumped into the bed and he sank down on it just before his knees gave out. He huddled protectively around Lyssa and hated the way his heart raced and his body trembled; even more, the way his reaction brought a lecherous smile to the other man's face.

"You are as luscious as ever, my wolf cub. That little taste will never be enough. I will demand so much more now that you are mine again." He stepped closer as he described Wolfram's future for him, the pleasure on his face sickening. "I'll have my sorcerer take us back forty years. As soon as you're healed and ripe for my seed, you will service me. Night after night," the hand reached out to caress Wolfram's stomach, "until you bear my son at last. I will raise both children to suit my purposes. I will return as your consort with them just old enough to assume their roles as heirs and still allow me to rule as regent once I rid myself of the last obstacle. I will then wed you in a very public ceremony – after of course the official mourning period for your royal fiancé has ended."

Wolfram felt the blood drain from his face, remembering a long-ago nightmare. Whatever it took, if it cost him his life, he was not going to let it come true. Hanreid would _not_ win.

Hanreid grabbed him by a fistful of hair and forced his head up. He must have wanted to see the effect of his assault and his vivid words, the proof of his unfazed power over him. Wolfram let his very real emotions show through, let his earlier tears fall, and his captor released him with a rough shake, satisfied. "Behave yourself. I won't be long."

And the madman finally left them alone. As he departed, Wolfram glimpsed guards approach and take up stations in the hallway before Hanreid closed and locked the door behind him.

Still shaking, Wolfram marveled that he wasn't more of a wreck. When Hanreid forced the kiss on him, he'd experienced the debilitating disgust, shame, and fear that not so long ago even a glance from the man had inflicted on him. But this time the intensity quickly faded to allow his natural psyche to rise through. What had changed?

'_They shadowed your mind and heart in order to control you," _the Maoh's words after he healed him came back to him._ "Much of the fear and confusion you experienced they created with sorcery and potions. The last of that influence is gone…'_

So he was no longer primed to fall under Hanreid's sway as he and the sorcerer no doubt expected. The Maoh had given him a chance to do more than hope to fight back. A small smile spread over his face, and Wolfram silently thanked the Maoh again, as the thought of Hanreid's face the moment he realized just how wrong his assumptions were lifted his spirits.

Hope sparking again in his heart, Wolfram rose to explore his new cage while gently rocking Lyssa in his arms. Perhaps he'd find a way out or at least something to use as a weapon. Like his previous rooms, it was sumptuously furnished. It was adorned with the richest fabrics in cool grays and blues and expensive furnishings carved by artisans from rare woods. Hanreid had spared himself nothing in the way of extravagance. The walls were a blend of stained wood paneling and smoothed stone. Hanreid had incorporated the actual mountain into the structure of his home. The drapes indicating a window hung from poles suspended from rings shaped from the rock face by an earth Mazoku. That didn't bode well for his hopes of escape.

Wolfram approached the heavy brocaded curtains and pushed them aside to expose what he'd suspected. The window were leaded glass in a pattern of soaring dragons in the arching stone frame at the top with four diamond-paned casements beneath that opened to allow cool are in during the summer. Each was only wide enough for a toddler to squeeze through comfortably. He carefully leaned his head through one for a look and immediately realized the window was no option even if he'd been at his best physically. From what he could see, the wall outside the window was completely smooth for at least ten feet down with no ledges or cracks to use as hand and toeholds. No doubt it had been done deliberately to deny a thief or assassin access – or prisoners a way to escape.

They were at least twenty feet above the ground, with only a yard or so of ledge before an abrupt cliff drop so deep he could only hear the rushing water of a river at its base.

Disappointed but not too surprised since Hanreid left him here confident he wouldn't escape, Wolfram retreated back into the room and approached the door. He had one last chance: to convince the guards to help him. He began knocking and shouting.

"Guards! Open this door and let me out! Guards!"

He didn't stop until he heard the sounds of the key freeing the lock. Wolfram pulled the door open a crack to come nose to point with a drawn sword.

The guard addressed him in a flat, almost vague tone. "I beg pardon, my Lord, but you must remain inside. You and the babe will be safest there when the battle comes."

"Battle? What in the world are you talking about?"

"Nothing for you to be bothered about, just leave it to us. Our Lord has commanded that we keep you here and safe and we will," the man went on, treating him like some helpless princess in a fairy tale. "My men and I will not allow your family to steal you from your rightful husband."

"But I am not…" Wolfram cut off his argument on seeing the pinprick size of the soldier's pupils through the protective visor of his helmet, evidence that the men doing Hanreid's bidding had been placed under a powerful controlling spell. They'd never believe him. The realization caused him to change his words midstream. "...equipped to tend my baby. I have to fetch supplies for her while I can."

"You need not perform such menial tasks. Lord von Hanreid has arranged for one of the maids to bring all you will need here. Please do nothing more to distract my men. Your lord husband has given me leave to physically restrain you for your own safety. If I am forced to do so, he will not be pleased." With that said, the guard shut the door in his face, locking it again.

Frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help himself, at least for the moment, Wolfram went back to the bed and sat down. Lyssa reached up with grasping fingers and he let her take hold of one of his fingers. Smiling, he reassured her, "Don't worry, little one. Your father and uncles are coming to take us home."

And silently he prayed that they'd arrive in time.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid pulled several outfits out of the wardrobe and tossed them into the satchel he'd brought for the purpose. They'd be fine for the later days of their time exile, but he needed something more practical and less alluring for Wolfram to wear while he recovered from the birth, something warm. His other spouses and test subjects had all complained during their pregnancies and beyond – the ones who lived that long – of being cold.

He glanced around the room. There was a woolen robe of some kind around somewhere. He spotted it crumpled at the foot of the bed. As he bent to pick it up, Hanreid noticed Wolfram's sketchbook half hidden by bedding where he must have left it in the rush of their departure.

Since that last encounter when his hunger nearly ruined all his plans, Hanreid had deliberately ceased spying on his husband. Watching what he dared not have only made it all the harder for him to control himself. The sorcerer had told him about giving the art supplies to Wolfram, but since it played no significant part in his schemes, he'd promptly forgotten about it.

Curious, he tossed the robe to join the rest of the clothes in the bag, picked up the sketchbook, and made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. To be expected, the first pages held studies of Voltaire, the half breed, Celi, and the human girl he called daughter, even the double black boy who'd tried to take his wolf cub from him. No surprise there, though he had not expected the skill they revealed. The drawings of the members of Wolfram's family done from memory were all very good likenesses. Here and there a stain of what must be tears marred the paper and exposed Wolfram's private misery.

Contemplating ways to use that new knowledge to his advantage, Hanreid turned to the next page. The faces that looked back should not have been there. He remembered the boy because he had begged so satisfyingly for him to leave his sister alone. He'd never had siblings before.

Hanreid flipped through the entire sketchbook, growing more agitated with each action. More drawings of his family came up occasionally, but most of the pages were filled with faces that Hanreid knew intimately and had last seen twisting with fear and pain until death wiped all expression away. Dead faces impossible for his wolf cub to have seen, so how…?

His gut grew cold with an emotion he refused to name.

His original purpose forgotten, he burst to his feet and stormed down the halls uncaring of the looks from guards and servants alike that he passed as he stalked back to his own chambers. He had several pointed questions for his precious husband.

-o0O0o-

Lyssa kicked and fretted in his arms, her scrunched up face reminding him of her father at his wimpiest and giving him a welcome moment of laughter. "Patience, my girl. It'll be ready in a moment."

Wolfram crouched down to where the bottle of milk warmed in the pan of water he'd set on the hearth. As promised, a maid had brought the supplies for the baby. The guards assigned to "keep him safe" didn't allow the older, matronly woman with sympathetic eyes to linger long enough for him to try to recruit her. So much for the faint hope of asking for aid from that quarter.

He felt keenly the race running beyond his control and the need to find a way to give Yuuri and his brothers the time to reach them before Hanreid's sorcerer recovered the strength to transport him and Lyssa to a place or time beyond hope of rescue.

Wolfram removed the bottle and tested the temperature of the milk on his wrist. His breasts had not developed during the pregnancy so he couldn't nurse Lyssa. Gisela shared his belief that the drugs and magic imposed on his body caused it. Once he recovered, she expected his natural rhythms to resume. He hoped so. Mazoku so rarely bore children. Lyssa might be his only natural child, and he didn't want to miss any part of that experience.

Settling into one of the wingback chairs, he held the nipple to her pouting mouth. Lyssa seized on it and began to suck, green eyes staring up at him.

"I wonder what you're going to be like," He mused in a soft voice, eyeing her riot of thick black curls. "Though you're not a double black, no one will dispute that you're Yuuri's heir once they see you. Our legends say that extraduce children have special destinies." Wolfram raised her closer to kiss the crown of her head. "I don't want a destiny for you. I want you to have as normal a life as possible without that weight on your shoulders. Your uncles and I know what that's like. It's hard to build a life on the foundations of a country's expectations. But Yuuri – he's your father – and I will make sure your childhood is happier and freer than we were allowed to have. So will your whole family. Your sister Greta will be a big help. She'll teach you all sorts of games and how to make flower crowns. We'll share bedtime stories together and when you're older, the two of you will spend hours talking about the new fashions. We'll have to fight your suitors off with stick and sword. Your father is a bit of a wimp so that will be my job."

Lyssa gazed up at him while she drank as if she understood every word.

"He's not really that bad," he assured her, "but don't tell him I said so."

Only a swallow or two remained in the bottle so he eased it from her mouth before she swallowed too much air and set it on the floor.

"Well done!" he praised her, shifting the tiny body to his shoulder where he'd draped a towel and proceeded to burp her.

That done, he walked to Hanreid's bed. The monstrosity was huge and Lyssa too young to roll about yet, but he wasn't taking chances. He'd built a circular barrier out of pillows and rolled blankets to keep her safe. She was already drifting off when he eased her inside the makeshift nest and then settled himself beside it.

Exhaustion and residual pain weighed every inch of his body. Wolfram wanted to stand guard, but all his training, both as a healer and a soldier, told him to get some sleep, if only for an hour or two. So ignoring his heart's cry to do otherwise, he gave his body what it desperately craved.

-o0O0o-

"You are stronger than expected. Your connection must be deep if he has this powerful an effect on you."

Wolfram opened his eyes in the dream world, inside the circle of light with a familiar face so close he could make out the individual streaks of blue, green, and brown of hazel eyes. He scrambled backward and away from the ghost woman until he could sit up. She made no move to stop him. She simply sat demurely on her heels with her hands cupped in her lap, her dove-gray gown spilling artfully about her like water frozen between moments.

"You stay away from my daughter!"

"She is necessary."

Wolfram stood up. He wore his uniform now, sword at his hip. A pity it wouldn't carry over into the real world when he woke.

"Necessary for what? She's just a baby!"

"She is extraduce, soul born. She is more." Her head tipped to the side, "What did you name her?"

"Lyssa."

"A fine name." The woman rose gracefully to her feet. White hands lifted the folds of cloth that draped her shoulders to cover her head in a gray veil. She held a hand out to him. "Come. Learn."

He hesitated at first but he remembered all she had done for him in the past, though he doubted her motives, and the way she cared for the children who shared this place with her. Wolfram took her chill hand in his.

The light went out and in the space of a blink they were in a different place when he could see again. They stood on a barren field with dead and dying grass halfway to his knees. Wolfram realized as his eyes adjusted that the field held all the children he'd met in his dreams. Some crouched in the branches of a few bare trees that dotted the landscape like black skeletons against a blacker sky. Others knelt or sat in the grass. The fire lion he'd created for them waited at the center of the gathering, his mane burned fiercely, shedding warmth without igniting the tinder-dry plants all around them. Young Kurt and Marta, cuddled against the lion's side, were the only ones to note their arrival but barely acknowledged him before turning back to their vigil. Every face bore bags under blank eyes and hollowed cheeks. They looked worse than when he first met them.

"What is happening here?" he asked his guide. "Why are they so much worse?"

She stared straight ahead. "Your lion taught them to play. They have been devout students of the game."

As crystal as ever, he thought impatiently. "Please, I need to understand. My child's well being is at stake here."

"He draws on them for the working Hanreid has demanded. The children each give a little so no one of them is drained away. They let him take enough to satisfy without alarming, and we wait. Our time comes."

Her head turned his way with startling speed so Wolfram could see her expression: serious, hard, and oddly eager. He'd seen such a look before, on the faces of warriors going into battle. Wolfram's worry escalated into outright fear.

"What are you going to do?" he whispered.

"Play my part. As must you. It is time for you to return, Wolfram von Bielefeld. Your daughter calls for you."

And his awareness returned to his body and the sound of Lyssa crying in angry misery. Wolfram opened his eyes to find her gone from her nest and in the arms of the cowled sorcerer.

"Give her to me!" he demanded, on his feet before he even realized he'd moved, with arms outstretched.

"I brought you a change of clothing for the journey. I'll hold her while you dress."

Seeing no safe alternative, Wolfram obeyed as quickly as he could, all the while keeping his eyes on the man holding his child. The tall figure rocked back and forth in an attempt to soothe Lyssa who was having none of it. When at last he stood before his captor in a nondescript brown boots, leggings, and tunic, Wolfram held out his arms again, masking his fear for his daughter with attitude.

"Now give her to me."

The sorcerer continued to rock his baby and peer down at her while holding one tiny fist in his hand to keep her from flailing it at him. "A confirmed extraduce babe. You have given your husband a most precious gift."

"He's not my husband! The tribute bond is dissolved."

The cowl lifted to face him. "You don't honestly think that matters to him. Besides, where we go that will make no difference. Have you named her yet?"

Wolfram kept his arms out. "She is Lyssa."

"Best forget that. Lord von Hanreid, as your husband, will have the naming of all your offspring. And I," he added with uncharacteristic anticipation in his voice, "shall have the training of what will be an extraordinary magical talent. This is your new reality. If you want to have any part in her life, you'd best be prepared to do whatever Lord von Hanreid asks of you."

Unable to stand waiting a second longer, Wolfram risked darting close to take Lyssa back. The sorcerer let him. They both knew full well the emptiness of that defiance, he had no power here.

"I will soon reach the magic levels I need to create the portal. Your husband wants you close so we can leave the instant it opens.

His mind screamed 'Stall!' Every second he delayed them improved the chances Yuuri, Gwendal, and Conrart reached them in time. Wolfram put on his most princely attitude.

"You expect me to go with just what I'm wearing? I'll need clothes, and not that whore's wardrobe Hanreid chose for me. I want something practical, warm, and preferably modest." The sorcerer moved in his direction and Wolfram kept stepping backward to maintain the distance between them. "I...I'll need supplies for Lyssa, diapers and milk and...And I need more time to rest. It's been less than a day since my travail."

The sorcerer continued to pursue him and countered every excuse with a sneer in his voice. "All you'll need for you and the babe has either already been packed or is waiting for us at our destination. You can rest in my chamber while I complete my preparations and sleep once we arrive."

"Arrive where?" he demanded.

"What difference does it make to you?"

Wolfram's back collided with the wall at the back of the room. The sorcerer grabbed his shoulders and pinned him there as he tried to dodge out of reach. He opened his mouth and took a deep breath to scream. Perhaps his bespelled guards would rush to his rescue. The ensuing confusion might let him escape the room and cause them to waste time in their attempts to recapture him.

A claw-like hand covered his mouth. The cowled head bent closer and still all Wolfram saw were shifting shadows beneath it. Out of it came words that chilled his soul.

"I have neither the patience nor the inclination to indulge this foolishness. One more word, one sound, and I will trap your voice behind a silenced tongue in a body that will move to my command like a marionette. Lord von Hanreid will demand to know the reason I wasted my magic and require even more time to summon the strength to cast the portal spell. I will tell him. How do you suppose he will punish you?"

He glanced down at the baby, causing Wolfram to hold Lyssa closer. His stomach sank painfully at the reminder that they could take her from him on little more than a whim. He had absolutely no chance if they separated them.

"Will you do as you're told?"

Wolfram nodded, hating the man, his own helplessness, and Hanreid most of all. The hands left him and the sorcerer stepped back.

"Come with me."

Mind racing, Wolfram countered, "Will you at least let me change her diaper first?"

The sorcerer had already started for the door, assuming he'd follow. He stopped and turned. "Be quick about it."

He put attitude on like a cloak, "Not in front of you. I want privacy. Turn around."

The sorcerer didn't move. He practically heard the man's eyes roll at the thought that Wolfram considered him to be so foolish as to expose himself that way.

"Fine. Then I'll use Hanreid's bath. I can at least keep my daughter from being ogled by the likes of you." When the sorcerer made to stop him, Wolfram sneered and put a touch of hopelessness in his voice. "What? Afraid we'll escape down the drain?"

A few second's pause and, "You have five minutes."

Wolfram snatched up a clean diaper and retreated to the relative privacy of the smaller room. He pulled a heavy towel from the rack waiting for the master of the house's use and spread it on the marble floor before easing Lyssa onto it.

Her earlier fright forgotten, his daughter kicked and burbled happily as he freed her from her swaddling and folded back her nightgown — a pretty white cotton and lace piece that his Mother brought on her second visit — and removed the diaper. He cooed back while scanning the room for anything that might be used as a weapon. Nothing, not at least that was small enough for him to conceal from his captors' sharp eyes.

Frustration burned in his stomach and the sense of being trapped closed tighter around him. He started to replace the diaper when his eyes fell on the safety pins. He smiled and bent to kiss Lyssa's nose.

"Thank you!"

Wolfram quickly refolded the fresh diaper into a triangle and secured it with a single pin. Now he had to find a place to conceal his new weapon. He chose the cuff of his left sleeve. Pinned on the inside to the hem so that the metal shaft didn't show, there'd be less chance of either Hanreid or the sorcerer noticing it. He'd also be able to access it quickly when, not if, the opportunity to strike back arose.

"Have you finished?" the impatient demand came from the other side of the door.

"Just a moment."

"If you aren't out in ten seconds…"

"I'm coming!"

He resettled Lyssa's gown and blanket, gathered her up in his arms, and stood. He pressed his cheek to hers briefly then took a moment to untangle his hair from her fist. "Here we go, baby."

"Honestly," he grumped upon exiting the bathroom to stand before his unwelcome escort. "For a worker of magic, you seem to have very little patience."

"I simply have work to get back to. Move along."

Or, Wolfram's heart leaped, Yuuri and his brothers were closer than they wanted him to know. Passing the sorcerer to walk ahead of him, Wolfram allowed himself a tiny smile. There was hope yet.

Before they reached it, the door to Hanreid's rooms swung wide and the man himself burst in. He shut it behind him and bore down on him like a hawk on a rabbit in an empty field, clutching something in his hand. Wolfram went white when he recognized the sketch book. In the rush and misery of their departure for Blood Pledge Castle, he must have forgotten to hide it.

Both the sorcerer and the ghost woman had warned him not to let Hanreid see it; from the fury on his face, they'd had reason.

"Explain this." The calm tone did not match what Wolfram saw in his eyes.

"I needed something to fill the hours. Your man brought me supplies so I could draw. It helped. They're just sketches and portraits of my family. I don't see…"

"The other drawings. Where did you meet the models?"

Wolfram shook his head, feigning confusion. "What models? I just drew them."

"Liar!"

A fist shot up and Wolfram braced for the blow.

"'Ware the child!" came the sorcerer's warning cry.

He watched Hanreid tremble with the effort not to finish what he'd started. Slowly, he lowered his arm but the rage didn't abate. No, more than anger fueled this.

"Where," he asked again, shaking the sketchbook under Wolfram's nose, "did you see the children you drew in this book?"

"Nowhere. My imagination. I made them up…!"

His denial ended on a choke when Hanreid's fingers latched around his throat. "Do not lie to me again. Where?"

On that last demand, the grip tightened brutally and Wolfram barely managed to choke out, "Dreams. Saw...in my...dreams…!"

Hopefully a partial truth would be enough to convince Hanreid he needn't interrogate him further. The choking hand on this throat shifted to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss that crushed his lips against his teeth. Repulsed and fearing for Lyssa sandwiched between them, Wolfram pushed back against the broad chest one-handed until Hanreid let him go.

"You've been keeping secrets from me, my wolf cub. And here I thought you properly tamed." He sounded inordinately pleased by the revelation. A single finger prodded the fresh gash in Wolfram's lower lip. He resisted the urge to snap at it like the wolf cub Hanreid insisted on calling him. "I look forward to taking up where we left off."

The hard glare went from the sketchbook to the fireplace to Wolfram again. A slow grin cut across his face as, staring into his eyes, Hanreid tossed it with devastating accuracy onto the flames.

"Don't!"

Wolfram tried to rescue it, but Hanreid caught him from behind and pulled him back against his chest.

"Why bother? They're just dreams, remember? Or is there more to it than you've said?"

"Only hours of work," Wolfram responded, watching the edges begin to char and burn along with the promises he'd made.

Hanreid dragged him around the enormous bed toward the paneled wall beside it. Wolfram watched him run his thumb along the raised molding of stained pine until a faint click sounded. It swung open like a door to reveal a dark stone stairway spiraling down. He should have suspected a secret entrance. Hanreid would never have slept in a room with only one way out.

Wolfram didn't resist as Hanreid force marched him down into the bowels of the manor with the sorcerer leading the way. His last glimpse of the fireplace before their descent cut it off was a view of the pages of the book beginning to smoke in a prelude to bursting into flame. He deeply regretted the loss, but if the confrontation that led to its destruction bought enough time for rescue to reach them….

-o0O0o-

Focused on their own concerns, none of them saw the flames eating at the book peel away to reveal only barely browned edges, or the spectral hands that materialized to rescue it from the burning logs and place it safely on the hearth.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid admired his handiwork while he marched Wolfram down the secret staircase. He'd brought in architects, stonecutters, earth magic wielders, and a slew of workers the day he took over his lands from the previous and long-gone owners to build the new wing that abutted the cliffside. That included carving this bolt hole into the very rock itself. A storm shelter, he'd told them. His reputation and the coin in their pockets put a stop to any further questions. Strategic fatalities ensured that only he and his sorcerer knew of its existence.

And now Wolfram, of course. By the way his head moved about, his wolf cub was assessing, no doubt with plans to escape at the first chance. The futility of the effort made him smile. The other lovers he'd brought this way reached despair long before the end of their visit to the sorcerer's den.

He stretched out his hand to caress those golden waves of hair, still soft as a babe's, just to watch the fire demon flinch. In a few weeks he might be able to call fire in response, but by then, he'd have him under magical restraints once more and he'd never let him out of his sight again. Wolfram would be well and truly his.

The instant they reached the sorcerer's chamber, Hanreid took hold of Wolfram's arm and hauled his protesting bride across the room to the alcove where a narrow cot waited. The other man used it to rest when he had some spell or experiment running that he wanted to keep an eye on. It had double doors that opened only from the outside, making it a perfect cage to hold their "special guests."

He shook a finger in Wolfram's face to cut off his rising protests. "Behave or I'll take the brat, gag you, and carry you through the portal bound hand and foot. Understand?"

The boy nodded frantically, his arms holding the baby tight as if he thought he might snatch her from him anyway. Satisfied he could leave him for the time being, Hanreid shoved the pair inside and closed the doors, flipping the latch to lock them in.

Now to deal with his sorcerer.

He sat once again in the center of his working, eyes closed and surrounded by the aura of his magical power as he resumed restoring his energies for the portal spell. The unholy blend of majutsu, houjutsu, and necromancy cast an unnerving sheen of yellow-purple light on the stone walls.

"What haven't you told me?"

The spellcaster didn't pause in his preparations. "About what, My Lord?"

"I recognized faces in that sketch book. You said they were dead and gone so how could Wolfram have drawn them so accurately?"

"Dead yes. Gone is...relative."

Hanreid crouched in front of him, wishing he dared reach inside the circle of chalk symbols on the stone floor to shake the man near senseless.

"Speak plain, and I'd better like what I hear."

Distracted by his labors, the sorcerer spoke disjointedly, his words fading and pausing when his labor demanded more of his attention. "As I have said before, the life force of the young is a potent fuel for my magic. The fact that your proclivities gave them that much more potency simply made our arrangement ideal for both of us. The manner of their deaths bound their souls for my use."

Hanreid tensed. "Are you saying that you have trapped the gods know how many vengeful spirits with reason to hate me in your 'reservoir'?!"

"Remember, they have as much reason to hate me as they do you, more to be honest. Do you think I would put myself at risk? There is no need to fear, My Lord. They exist in an instant between life and death, and none of them can leave it. As I feed, as time passes, a soul so trapped loses all connection to the real world. It eventually becomes nothing but mindless energy, then nothing at all as I drain the last away."

He pulled the belling sleeve of his robe back to expose a forearm. Hanreid remembered it as being a night black with a darker black shifting across the skin. Now the arm looked nearly normal, as if he'd stuck it into the dark shadow of a stone wall. But as he watched, it grew more opaque as he fed.

"Each shadow allows me to draw on that individual's soul to fuel my spells." The sorcerer let the sleeve fall back into place and resumed his original position at the center of his casting. "The magic I do for you would be impossible for a single spellcaster otherwise. In the last week, I've used much of my reserves and haven't had the leisure to replenish them as I'd have preferred. Young Wolfram has been in intimate contact with my magic for a very long time. This no doubt has led to a weak connection to them. Not enough to cause us any concern."

A plausible explanation, though his own senses told him it wasn't the full truth. He left that for another time. "But why draw them?"

"Who can fathom the mind of an artist? His actions had no bearing on your plans save to give your husband an outlet for his emotional stress, so I saw no reason to concern you over it."

Hanreid nodded then scowled at the wavering aura around the man. "How soon before we can leave?"

The hood swung in the negative. "Not for another hour or so, I fear. I drained myself too deeply to get us all here as I am. I've never needed draw so much at one time before. I must take it slowly or risk destroying the source completely. Even so, once we escape, I will need to replenish the reservoir."

That brought a smile to Hanreid's face. He so enjoyed that part of their agreement. He straightened up to leave. "Move as fast as you dare. I want Wolfram and the babe beyond von Voltaire's reach before they arrive." He remembered that he'd left the satchel with extra clothes for Wolfram in his room. "I'll fetch the things we'll need for our guests."

"As you command."

Hanreid returned to his room by the secret way and exited his suite as if nothing were wrong. It wouldn't do for anyone to see him elsewhere when he'd so obviously come there. He walked slowly back to Wolfram's rooms, deep in thought. Perhaps it was because his magic levels were so drained, but the sorcerer had been easier to read. The man made an art form of lying with the truth. In light of the explanation he'd provided as they solidified their plans all those decades ago, his explanations today made perfect sense. But if that were all there was to it, why hadn't he seen fit to report on the kinds of drawings Wolfram was doing when he faithfully reported everything else he did and said? He entered the spelled suite, picked up the satchel and froze.

He'd remembered something else.

On a dark, fog-wrapped night, they'd been disposing of another body in the graveyard deep in a bog unreachable by any means save the sorcerer's portal spell. She'd been a seasonal worker who had stayed for the promise of year-round employment. The girl had most satisfactorily met both their needs before her demise. Normally the shadows that Hanreid glimpsed in the darkness of the perpetual hood after the ritual merely shifted on the barely seen cheeks. That night they'd writhed in a most unsettling way.

"It seems you have a fighter on your hands."

"They all fight for a while."

Hanreid used his foot to roll the blanketed corpse into the shallow grave the sorcerer had dug. After it had moldered long enough, the man would magic his way back to harvest spell components.

"Doesn't that worry you?"

"No, My Lord," came his reply as he spread loam over the body until eventually the grave would be indistinguishable from the rest of the lay save to his magic. "Without knowledge of my name or face, their rage and thirst for vengeance has no target. As I use their life force, they forget why they are angry. In time, they forget who they are, degenerating into nothing more than magical energy for my use in your service."

"And if they don't forget?"

The shovel paused so briefly and he covered so well that anyone else would have missed it. But Hanreid had been probing his spellcaster for weaknesses from the day they met, and always watched him carefully. This was the first sign of a chink in his unflappable armor.

"That's never happened before, but I suppose if a soul proved that stubborn, I'd have a much more difficult time drawing on their life force."

At the time, he'd just tucked that bit of information into the corner of his mind reserved for his partner in crime and moved on.

Necromancer. Hanreid had always known the sorcerer used death in his magic, but it never occurred to him that it didn't end with the buried corpse. To be honest, he admitted to himself, as long as it worked, he hadn't really cared. But now he must reassess under these new conditions.

He knew the man had lied again, or was deceiving himself. Over the decades he'd dabbled in the magical realms on his own. Since he has so little skill, nothing came of it; but everything he read never left his memory. Harnessing a vengeful spirit resembled grabbing a rabid squirrel by the tail. It never ended well. If their dead had the ability to touch Wolfram's dreams, what else were they capable of?

Running footsteps behind him warned him before the guardsman called out, "My Lord!"

He stopped and turned to face the man who came to an awkward halt to bow.

"What is it?"

"The sentry has seen signs of an approaching force on the road to the manor."

Hanreid's hand clenched on the handles of the satchel. Damn Voltaire, he must have pushed like a maniac to get here so fast. "You have your orders. See they do not enter this manor, by all means necessary. Am I understood?"

"Yes, My Lord!"

He waited until the guard was out of sight before breaking into a run,

-o0O0o-

Wolfram pressed his ear to the door to listen to the conversation between the two men but heard nothing but faint mumbling. The tiny cell must have been soundproofed. Giving up on eavesdropping on his captors, he turned to examine his new prison. He cradled Lyssa securely in one arm and stretched out his free hand.

By the light coming through the thin gap between the floor and the double doors, Wolfram explored the walls around him. Solid rock on all sides, not mortared stone by the feel of it. His fingers encountered iron rings set into the walls. Four of them, two high and wide apart, two close to the floor.

"We have to get away from them," he told his daughter who showed amazing composure all things considered. Barely able to make out her features, Wolfram imagined them filled with all the trust an infant must have for the ones who cared for her. He would not fail her. He freed the safety pin from its hiding place in his sleeve cuff and bent it until he had it nearly straight and carefully palmed it. He'd have seconds after the doors opened to do damage and break for the stairwell.

He refused to calculate the odds of success.

Thinking he'd need both hands free, Wolfram dropped to his knees next to the cot – a tight fit – and set Lyssa on the blanketed mattress. He tugged the tunic over his head and used the pin to start a tear and ripped and knotted the garment into a secure pouch. He did the same with the sleeves, all the while listening hard for the sound of approaching footsteps. Soon he had a sling that draped across his body. He'd settled Lyssa into the snug pouch just as the scratching sound of the latch shifting alerted him, and Wolfram braced himself.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri expected to see something like Tara from Gone with the Wind. Instead of the antebellum mansion he'd been imagining, Hanreid's home looked more like a three-story Swiss chalet that morphed into a stone fortress. Part of it had actually been carved out of the mountainside

Guards in Hanreid's colors with raised pikes and drew swords took position when Conrad and Gwendal rode into the courtyard. From several yards behind them, Yuuri could tell by the coordinated response to the brothers' arrival that they'd been told to expect and repel them, which meant that Hanreid had indeed brought Wolfram and Lyssa here. Riding hard and changing horses at every relief station that Yosak was able to arrange by dove messages had shaved hours off the time it normally took to reach his manor from Blood Pledge Castle.

Every muscle in his body ached and Yuuri half feared none of his organs would settle back in their original positions again, but it was worth it. Please, he prayed as he had through the entire trip, let us be in time.

He and Murata reached the courtyard in the middle of a confrontation about to turn ugly, if not bloody. Six to two and Yuuri knew who'd be left standing if the guards remained standing between Lady Celi's sons.

"Stand firm," ordered a craggy man whose scars and demeanor spoke of years of battle experience, and the skill to come out of it relatively whole, "and defend what is our Lord's"

Gwendal's response exposed his impatience and determination, "Your Lord kidnapped our brother. Stand aside or be cut down!"

"Stand firm and defend what is our Lord's."

The man who spoke before stepped forward to strike and Yuuri realized something wasn't right. He moved with the awkwardness of a novice despite his obvious experience. The other five men also advanced like half-strung puppets.

"They're bespelled!" Murata yelled. "The sorcerer must be controlling them. Without their free will, they can't fight effectively enough to be a real threat."

Yuuri almost smiled. That also meant that the sorcerer's attention and energy was divided, they had a real chance to save Wolf and the baby.

As if they read each other's minds, his godfather and his counselor sheathed their swords and resorted to fists. In a matter of seconds, six men sprawled on the cobblestones.

Yuuri dismounted and ran into the manor, ignoring the shouts to wait that came from the brothers who were busy tying up their opponents. He burst into the foyer only to run into someone. A strangled squeal came in response as they fell together to the floor. He got to his feet as fast as he could to stare down at a middle-aged woman hefting a stuffed bed sheet onto her shoulders and trying to stand up in panic. That is until she got a good look and him.

Relief washed over her face and a hand went to her chest where her heart must be racing. "Watch where you're going, boy, you scared half a life out of me! As if enough isn't going on."

Yuuri was getting used to people in Shin Makoku recognizing him on sight. It surprised him that this woman didn't until he remembered that the hat and coat he wore against the chill of winter's last traces on the ride hid his telltale hair and black uniform. She must think he was a servant or something. Belatedly he offered her his hand.

"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't see you."

She accepted his help and got to her feet. Adjusting her burden, she told him, "There's no deliveries today. Go back to your wagon and head home quick as you can."

"Why?" Yuuri asked, hoping to learn clues to find where Hanreid was keeping Wolfram and Lyssa. "What's happened?"

The woman in a maid's uniform moved in shuffling steps in the direction she must have been going when he ran into her. "His Lordship returned without his escort and set the household guard to defend the place." Her bundle slipped and she adjusted it with a kind of hop and wiggle. "Gossip is he offended the King and now his army is coming for him. The rest of the staff has gone already. I only stayed long enough to prepare supplies for his wee husband and the new babe. The poor thing's just delivered and none of this his fault. But I don't get paid enough to stay for what's coming."

She started to flee but Yuuri stopped her, thinking desperately fast. "Wait! I've got an urgent message for his husband." He patted his coat the way Yosak had done on occasions when he carried packets for hand delivery. "It might have to do with all this."

"Do as you please. But don't linger if you want to keep your head!" she called over her shoulder as she resumed her flight.

The second the maid was down the hall and out of sight, Gwendal and the others emerged from where they'd ducked behind the entryway doors. Both men held their swords again, ready to defend or attack.

"Do not," Gwendal practically growled, "ever run ahead of your guard in a battle situation again!"

"I'm sorry but we're running out of time!" Four hallways branched off the open foyer like the spokes of a wagon wheel. A sweeping staircase led to the upper floors. So many rooms. Where do we even start looking?

His eyes swept their surroundings for some kind of clue. They skimmed over the statue in a decorative niche in the wall on the stair's midway landing twice before something clicked. Yuuri took the steps two at a time to get a closer look. Beyond sense, he recognized it: a small boy standing on a rock holding a bird cupped in his palms. He'd seen it before.

"Shibuya, what are you doing?"

Yuuri turned around to tell his friend of the odd déjà vu moment and froze. Looking down on the foyer from the landing, he recognized everything. The carpet, the tapestries of hunting hounds, the elaborate parquet flooring. He knew this place. In a dream Joy led him here to a waiting Wolfram. In that awful room! He tore up the rest of the way up the stairs faster than he'd ever run in his life.

"Yuuri!"

"This way!"

He heard his companions pounding after him but didn't care that he'd already violated Gwendal's order. This was a race for Wolfram's life, for their baby.

Oddly, he didn't run into anyone else on the way: no servants, no extra guards. The woman was right. Hanreid's staff had all deserted him.

He saw the doors from his dream on reaching the third floor landing. "There!" he pointed, "That's the room!" He didn't get a chance to run again. Conrad pulled him back and held on even as Yuuri struggled to twist free.

"Stay here," his godfather urged in a soft voice. "We can't afford to make a mistake if Wolfram is inside. Gwendal and I go first."

Yuuri recognized the sense of his words, but in that moment he hated the need for sense. Still he quit fighting and let the two warriors work.

Murata stepped to his side and placed one hand on his shoulder to comfort and, Yuuri guessed, to hold him back if he lost it again.

Conrad approached the doors first, crouched and drew a thin-bladed dagger from his boot. He slipped the blade between the two doors at the base and slowly pulled it up.

"Drop latch," Murata whispered. "Not much of a deterrent but enough to give the occupant warning if someone tries to break in."

If it's locked from the inside, then someone must be in the room. Hold on, Wolf, we're coming!

About six inches above the door knob his godfather's hand stopped and he nodded at his brother. Gwendal moved in close with his shoulder to the right side door and nodded in turn. A quick flip of his wrist followed by a rattling sound told Yuuri that Conrad had located and released the latch locking the door on the other side. A second later, Gwendal shouldered the door open

The expected shouts and sounds of battle never happened. He exchanged a worried glance with Murata and together they joined the brothers in the empty room.

"But the door was locked. Where did they go?"

Murata walked to the back of the room and pushed aside a curtain. "Not out the window at least," he reported. "The casements are too small, not to mention there's a sheer drop on this side of the manor, it's got to be thirty feet."

"Wolfram and the baby were here though."

Conrad stood by the room's fireplace holding an empty baby bottle and of all things a spiral bound sketchbook with singed edges that must have come from Earth. He waved the latter a bit, "This is his."

"And there are more baby things in the bath," Gwendal reported as he exited the side room of the suite. "Including a wet diaper so they can't have been gone very long. How did you know to come here, Heika?"

Conrad added, "You ran as if you knew exactly where to go."

"You won't believe me," Yuuri confessed, "but I've been dreaming of this house off and on for the last few weeks back on Earth. I didn't realize it until I saw the foyer from the landing."

"You got us this far," the eldest brother assured him, "how you came by the knowledge hardly matters right now. Can you tell us of any other places he might be keeping them?"

Frustrated, Yuuri shook his head.

"Guys."

Murata's voice sounded funny. He pointed behind Yuuri. He turned to see part of the paneled wall move. Conrad immediately put himself between it and Yuuri while Gwendal did the same for Murata.

It swung silently open to expose a stone stairwell so narrow it only allowed single file passage. They waited for several seconds, but no one came out and nothing else happened. They moved closer.

Murata whispered, "No mortar. This was shaped by an earth magic wielder."

"A trap?" Conrad guessed.

"Has to be," his brother agreed, "but what choice do we have?"

Yuuri peered around his godfather and squinted into the shadows just beyond the firelight reaching the passageway. Something was moving there. Gradually it drew closer and he recognized the woman from his dreams. Joy was translucent, he clearly saw the stone wall behind her, and she hovered above the floor by several inches. Folds of her gossamer gown and strands of her rich auburn hair floated about her as if she were suspended in gently shifting water. Joy held a finger to her lips before he said anything then pointed at his companions. From there lack of reaction, Yuuri realized that none of the others saw her.

Her lips moved silently when she had his attention again, shaping a single word. Wolfram. At his nod, she began drifting back and down the way she'd come.

"It's okay, guys, it's not a trap."

The older men gave him weird looks. Murata stared at the spot where Joy hovered with a calculating expression.

"How can you be sure?" asked Conrad.

Murata's head cocked slightly to the left. "I do believe we have a supernatural guide, right Shibuya?"

"Right." By the ease of their acceptance of that explanation, Yuuri suspected Gwendal and Conrad were assuming it was the Maoh somehow. Only Murata knew details of his dreams and had probably guessed who was actually helping them. "But we'll have to be really quiet so we don't give ourselves away."

Joy nodded in weird slow motion, pirouetted, and led them down. Dodging Gwendal's abortive attempt to keep him from going first, Yuuri followed in her wake.

-o0O0o-

Hanreid made his way to the sorcerer's chambers by the regular way. He barred the door behind him. "Can you cast the spell now?" he asked as he angled to where he'd stored Wolfram and the baby.

"I don't have enough magic for our original destination. I can manage a short distance if we're pressed, but…"

"We're pressed. Voltaire's practically at the gates. Open that portal while I fetch our guests."

A flash of blond hair and hard green eyes met him as he opened the doors to the alcove. Hanreid had expected a last-ditch attempt at escape. He wasn't expecting the sharp pain across his face or the wet warmth of blood flowing from a gashed jaw.

"You little…!"

Wolfram ducked his backhand and elbowed him in the kidneys before sprinting for the stairs. Hanreid pursued, hot on his heels. Damn, he ran like a rabbit! He'd already reached the staircase leading back to his suite.

"Get back here!"

"Wolfram?!"

"Yuuri!"

Damn and damn, the little king had gotten here faster than he'd expected. The relief in Wolfram's cry infuriated him. He'd be forced to leave him behind if he reached the rescue party.

Not happening! Fury gave him the burst of adrenalin to close the narrowing gap between them. He leapt the steps three at a time and caught his prey around the waist to lift him off his feet. Wolfram's arm rose and he saw a glint of metal. Before he stabbed him with whatever he held in his fist, Hanreid grabbed him by the wrist and slammed it with stunning force against the wall. He cried out from the pain and fingers opened to drop what looked like a safety pin to the floor. Satisfied he'd not suffer another wound, he released the arm to draw his belt knife while his wolf cub thrashed against his chest, captive again and shield against any attack.

A second later, Yuuri Heika rounded the curve of the stairwell with Voltaire at his back. It had been that close. The gray-haired warrior moved so he stood between him and the boy-king, sword – surprisingly clean of blood – at the ready.

"Release them!"

He laughed at that useless command. "We both know that's not going to happen. Stop struggling!" But the spitfire ignored him and kept on fighting, making bruising connections despite the baby secured by one arm. No doubt inspired by rescue just yards away. "If we fall, the babe is more likely to take harm than I am."

That did it. Wolfram hung quiet in his grasp, panting from his efforts. Hanreid backed down the stairs carefully and quickly. He saw Voltaire's muscles tense and pressed his knife to Wolfram's face. "Stay back. I won't kill him, but I won't hesitate to hurt him.

That ended any foolhardy notions of jumping him. Hanreid resumed taunting his enemies even as he continued his retreat. "I hold the true heir of the Demon King in my power, and all of time to choose from. Raised as my daughter, she will give me the throne you deny me today, perhaps in a time when you are little more than dust and memories. You'll go to your graves knowing I won. Or perhaps I'll return when you are too old to do anything but witness and despair. I will take all you love from you, Voltaire, starting with your precious brother."

Only a few steps to the landing. The narrow stairwell restricted everyone, but that also meant that the instant they reached the sorcerer's room, his foes would attack. They all knew they'd have only seconds to stop him from escaping with his prizes through the portal that had better be waiting for him.

Mocking them served not just to please him, but to increase the odds that one of them would make a mistake that gave him the chance to succeed. Hanreid grinned at the growing desperation on the faces before him. He pressed his lips to the back of Wolfram's head and watched the brothers glare down on him with cold fury. The little Heika's hands clenched into fists. "That will be a pleasure, sweet Wolfram has charms of his own."

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. Hanreid turned and with a practiced move flipped his grip on his knife to catch it by the point and threw it hard at Yuuri's gaping face.

None of them expected that and acted to protect their king. With a cocky wave of his empty hand, Hanreid stepped backward and into the portal that his clever sorcerer had conjured up just inside the doorway

-o0O0o-

"No!"

Yuuri landed painfully against the stone steps under Gwendal who'd pushed him down and under the flight of the deadly blade. Conrad in turn pressed Murata against the wall. He heard metal hit rock but didn't stop to think. He'd let Hanreid take Wolfram away twice. Not again, this time he wasn't paralyzed or a building away. Yuuri scrambled out from under Gwendal and half fell half ran the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Yuuri, don't!"

He felt fingers miss their grasp at his ankle and hit the center of the portal rapidly closing around him.

-o0O0o-

"No!"

Passing into the portal framed the last memory he might ever have of his brothers, Murata, and Yuuri. The disbelief and despair on their faces that must match his own that they'd come so close. The image of Yuuri gathering his feet under him and launching himself at him, hand outstretched, before the shimmering curtain of magical energy cut off the sight as Hanreid hauled him through to the other side. Wolfram felt a painful sinking in his chest. He had no idea where or when Hanreid had brought them. He might never see any of them again.

It wasn't a conscious decision. Maybe panic triggered it, or perhaps in the back of his mind Wolfram realized that this was his last chance. Hanreid howled when he snapped his head back to crash into his chin. He fought with a crazed fury. Lyssa secure in her makeshift sling allowed him to use both hands in the back alley tricks Yosak had taught him when he'd come to him for help getting his family's permission to enter military training. In that first clandestine lesson, the spy had given him advice that he took to heart:

'At your size, you're going to face a lot of opponents bigger than you. With your looks on top of that, they will underestimate you. Use that to catch them off guard. Go for the eyes if you have to resort to hand to hand. Size and experience don't matter. Everyone will flinch or duck instinctively. If you don't connect, take advantage of the opening you'll get to strike as hard and fast as you can at the vulnerable parts of the body.'

Wolfram did just that, kicking, gouging, and clawing in a frenzy that defied the one-handed attempts to restrain him. Hanreid didn't let go of him to use both hands as he'd hoped, but kept the hold around his waist. Unfortunately, he was just as determined to keep him as Wolfram was to get away, and he had not only greater strength but aid to call on.

"Get over here and help me! He's gone mad!"

Wolfram felt new hands clutching at him and realized the sorcerer was worrying at the knots of the sling he'd made to hold Lyssa. Dividing his efforts between keeping hold of his baby with his left arm and fighting off Hanreid's grabs at his right undermined both his offense and defense. It all fell apart in moments. Hanreid caught him painfully by the wrist again, giving the sorcerer nearly unhindered access to Lyssa.

He tried to hold Lyssa one armed, but thin fingers pried his own away, bending them back to the point of dislocation. Grunting at the pain, Wolfram refused to let go. His assailant whispered words he didn't recognize and the strength in his arm drained away. He screamed in helpless frustration just as a fist connected with his temple. Stars and blackness filled Wolfram's head and his world went dark to the feel of Lyssa being taken from him.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri didn't hit the floor. He didn't crash into the people he'd so desperately tried to stop. He didn't do anything. He hung in nothing. Wherever he was, there didn't seem to be a down for his flailing feet to find.

"Wolfram? Anybody?"

The darkness around him swallowed his shout, muffling it as if he'd screamed into a pile of pillows. He tried again, yelling with everything he had but the result was actually quieter than before. If Wolfram was here somewhere, he'd never hear him. If he were a foot away, Yuuri wouldn't see him in the solid inky blackness around him.

Maybe not so solid. A pinpoint of light appeared in the distance, unless he imagined it. Yuuri blinked. It was still there, only closer now.

"Hey!" he called out. "Do you think you could help me?"

The pinprick became a star with rays of light surrounding the vague shape of a person who moved toward him too smoothly for someone walking. But as it drew closer, the light resolved into flowing hair and billowing skirts. Yuuri grinned in relief as he recognized Joy, more solid here than she'd been in Hanreid's bedroom or in his dreams. She came to a stop a few feet from him, just out of reach.

"Greetings, Yuuri Heika. I've waited a very long time to meet you."

"I'm honored." He did his best to bow formally though he must have looked more awkward than usual. "I didn't think you could talk. Honestly, I didn't even think you were real until I saw you today."

"Much changes now."

Yuuri stuck his hand out to her. "Can you get me out of here? I've got to find Wolfram and Lyssa."

"No."

He didn't have time for this. Panic clawed in his throat at the thought of Hanreid escaping with Wolfram and Lyssa while he was stuck in this creepy place. "Why not? Where are we? If you won't help me, then at least tell me how to do it myself!"

"The In Between."

It took a moment to sort out what she'd responded to. "What?"

Sad-faced as ever, the woman – ghost? – explained, "The gap where Time flows before and behind. Here Time awaits its time. We all do."

"Waits for what? Who's we?"

Joy didn't answer; only put a finger to her lips to silence him. She stared off in the direction she'd come from with her head canted to the side as if she listened for something. Yuuri kicked and strained uselessly for one last time, then with a frustrated groan settled in to wait as Joy obviously expected him to, trying very hard not to imagine what Hanreid was doing to Wolfram.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram slumped to the ground, never quite losing consciousness but his awareness drifting out of his control. He saw and heard things in flashes: Lyssa wailing in the watching sorcerer's arms. Hanreid crouching a little ways off over what looked like saddle bags. Pulling on a pair of leather gloves. Walking toward him with rope and chains in his hands.

The blow to his head left him too addled to do anything to stop Hanreid from shackling him with gem-studded leather cuffs and cinching them tight. About two feet of chain with a long lead rope attached at the center. Hazily he blinked up at Hanreid who stood over him coiling it to shorten the length.

"We're miles from any road, so yelling won't do anything but make me angry."

Surrendering for the moment, Wolfram did his best to sit up and examine his surroundings. The sorcerer had brought them to a copse-lined hollow surrounded by a forest still winter bare. The trees grew dense around them and served as a screen even bare of leaves. Anyone walking in woods might never see them until they practically stepped on them. A small shelter, camouflaged better than any hunter's blind he'd ever seen waited at the center.

An unexpected yet familiar pain like needles behind his eyes caused Wolfram to examine the decorations on the bindings more closely. He gasped in dismay and clawed at the leather cuffs. He had to remove them before the houseki stones' malignant energies left him as helpless as the sorcerer's spells and potions once did. But they were so tight he couldn't force them off and the locks were too complex to open without tools.

Hanreid pulled his hands apart and ended his efforts. While the houseki continued to weaken him and his struggles, Wolfram saw no sign of it affecting the man so easily restraining him.

"Why aren't you…?"

Hanreid's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Oh, my ability to use maryoku is practically non-existent. All I get from exposure to houseki is a mild headache. If I wear heavy gloves to handle them," he nodded at his hands "even that isn't a problem."

"I've left nothing to chance. I knew your powers would begin to regenerate once you gave birth and planned accordingly," he boasted and touched his shackles. "These will keep you harmless until I have you under more permanent control. I own many suitable houses that stand ready with rooms like your suite in the manor waiting. This is just one of many bolt holes I've set up across Shin Makoku, some in human territories."

Wolfram tried to glare but the houseki's effect left him with no energy for it.

"Won't you ask where we are? Really my wolf cub, you must learn to play the game properly." Hanreid chuckled. "We are in the heart of Big Shimaron's forests. Even if by some wildly unlikely chance your brother figures out where we've gone, he will never reach us before we've moved on. And you can stop plotting behind those lovely eyes of yours. No one here will help you if you run."

Wolfram's heart sank a little deeper with each word as Hanreid pounded verbally at his last hopes. The hated face leaned in closer and the chuckle became an outright laugh of triumph when he flinched back.

"You're mine now, sweet cub."

-o0O0o-

Hanreid stood and used the rope lead to pull Wolfram up after him. The fire demon shook visibly and his face now had a green tinge that warned of imminent nausea. His lover must be miserable. The chill air didn't help. Everyone's breath floated like white clouds in front of them and the light would soon begin shifting into twilight. He wanted Wolfram weakened but not so much that it delayed his recovery later.

Frowning, he faced their shelter. The cabin barely covered eight square feet and had never been meant for long-term residence. It annoyed him that they'd have to stay here for any length of time.

"Inside," he ordered Wolfram and yanked on the lead to emphasize the command. "It's too damn cold to wait out here."

Wolfram watched the sorcerer with hungry eyes as they passed him. But he did not reach out. Exposing a Demon child at any age directly to houseki wasn't a good idea. Once he had them settled within the small shelter, Hanreid seriously considered freeing Wolfram just to deal with his brat. Her wailing hurt his ears even worse contained by four walls and a roof. The beleaguered spellcaster was having no luck quieting the baby who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Her bearer was likely the only one in their party with a chance to calm her, especially since they'd been forced to leave the baby supplies behind and didn't have milk to distract her with.

"Give her to me," he ordered the spellcaster. "I want you to recover your strength and take us through the last leg. I want a real roof over my head, a hot meal in my stomach, and my bed. I have no intention of spending the night out here."

"Yes, My Lord. I'll be able to manage it before dark."

As the sorcerer handed off the infant, Hanreid caught a glimpse of natural skin tone beneath the hood. The shadows he'd come to associate with the other man's power had definitely faded. Once free of the babe, the sorcerer simply dropped where he stood to sit cross-legged in the pine needles, leaves, and whatever else winter had left behind on the ground. The hum of a spellworking crawled over Hanreid's nerves. If it had been dark enough, he'd see a very faint glow of magic haloing the robed figure as he cast the spell to refuel his reserves.

Once settled in his new quarters with Wolfram under lock and key, he'd have the sorcerer start performing the ritual again and keep it up until he could once again cast the spell that kept the fire wielder's magic under control. Houseki might do the job but the side effects would interfere too much with Wolfram's ability to resume his spousal duties.

Speaking of his little firecracker, Hanreid examined the boy swaying with exhaustion behind him. Determined defiance still lingered in those green eyes that met his without flinching. Despite the houseki stones leeching away at his already low reserves of maryoku, Hanreid knew he'd attack again if he gave him a chance.

Leaving the spellcaster to his task, Hanreid walked into the shelter. The little cabin barely qualified for the title. Besides the narrow cot against the back wall, it held an emergency field kit in case he arrived with injuries to tend, a chamber pot behind a two-panel folding screen for privacy, and a small iron stove for heat.

"Sit," he ordered and followed suit.

Wolfram remained standing, eyeing him and the baby, who finally seemed to be winding down, with quiet desperation. He had to smile at that. "You might as well join us. Even if you were healthy enough to survive it, I have no intention of bedding you in this squalor. A much bigger and finer bed awaits us where we're going. And our first night together…." He was about to describe in detail what he planned for their first night together when the soft whining coming from the crook of his arm escalated into a high-pitched squealing that made him wince. Hanreid scowled down at the red-faced creature, "Why does she keep doing that? What's wrong with her?"

"She's a baby, babies cry." His blond cub hesitated then thrust his hands forward. "Let me hold her, she'll quiet down for me. But Lyssa shouldn't come in direct contact with houseki stones. Remove these and I'll take her. As you said, where would I go even if I had the strength to run?"

Hanreid awkwardly rocked the infant while searching Wolfram's eyes for the intent behind his words. It didn't pay to underestimate Wolfram. The gash along his chin line attested to that. Turning a diaper pin into a weapon – he had to give him points for that, but not another chance to try and escape him.

However, the boy really did look much like an overused rag. Only his stubborn determination kept him on his feet. Hanreid decided the cuffs weren't really needed. He trusted in his own strength to control a Wolfram without his fire.

"Very well, just stop her caterwauling." He motioned Wolfram closer and unbuckled the cuff on his left wrist one handed with practiced ease. "Fasten that to your ankle, and make it tight."

With distrust in every move, Wolfram obeyed. "Now remove the other and fasten it to the cot leg. Your child is waiting."

Again, he did as instructed. Using the babe to control him was proving to be an excellent strategy. An idea to while away the time while the sorcerer recovered came to him and Hanreid smiled. He patted the mattress next to him. He didn't need to tell his wolf cub to sit this time.

"Now give her to me."

Wolfram reached out to take the baby from his arms and Hanreid pulled her away, "Not yet. I'll let you hold her if you kiss me."

Verdant eyes went wide. "What? That's absurd!"

Hanreid deliberately jostled the brat, upsetting her even more and intensifying the anxiety in his husband. "Surely you don't think it an unreasonable price for the comfort of your daughter?"

Wolfram glared his refusal, but that didn't last long. His every instinct must be screaming at him to comfort his child. Defiance melted into surrender. Hanreid bent down, lips pursed, and waited. Wolfram's mouth touched his in a quick peck and darted back. He grabbed him by the back of his head and forced him back, taking over the kiss and turning it into something deeper and much more satisfying, at least for him.

The tension in the body straining to keep from being pulled against his spoke eloquently of his lover's revived defiance.

But he had given in for the child's sake.

Hanreid broke the kiss and grinned as he let him go. Looking thoroughly repulsed, Wolfram again held out his arms.

"I kissed you," he panted. "Give Lyssa to me!"

Hanreid eased her into his hold. "As I recall, I kissed you. That buys you a quarter hour. Perhaps," he added enjoying the way his wolf cub tried to hide his dismay, "now that you know what I expect, you'll do a better job of it when your time runs out."

"Damn you!" he cursed him. His hatred practically burned in the green depths of his eyes.

"Think of your baby," he reminded him. "She needs you more than you need to hold to your pride. Time's running, my wolf cub."

He didn't protest the hated nickname, though he obviously wanted to. Hanreid draped an arm over Wolfram's shoulders and pulled his little family in tight against his side. His husband tensed again and gave him a wary glance, but he didn't try to pull away. He was learning the new rules of their relationship fast.

The next hour or so were going to prove most enjoyable after all.

-o0O0o-

Between bouts of the twisted kissing game, Wolfram managed to change and comfort Lyssa so that she didn't make herself sick with crying despite her growing hunger. He found himself sending good wishes for his efforts the sorcerer's way for her sake for she must have milk and he certainly had no way to provide it here.

His daughter now slept peacefully in his arms, as lovely as an angel. Wolfram focused on her and did his best to ignore the hands petting at him and the sordid promises Hanreid whispered in his ear, no doubt marking his minutest response for future exploitation.

The houseki stones were sapping the last of his barely recovered strength out of him, leaving nausea and a fierce headache in their wake. He knew he was running out of time. He must act before his wits and strength became too addled.

Hanreid had chosen his temporary camp too well. Somewhere in Big Shimaron with no idea how many miles away or in what direction lay a friendly nation, Wolfram knew he'd risk being taken captive by enemies just as bad in their way as Hanreid if he managed to get away here.

Outside the cabin the sorcerer got to his feet and began moving his hands in arcane gestures. Wolfram couldn't hear his words, but he knew what he must be doing. Soon he'd open the portal and his best chance to make a run for it would be in the seconds after they arrived at their destination. If Hanreid got him into the spelled room that waited for him….

"I'm ready, My Lord."

"Time to go home!" Hanreid bent to free the cuff from the cot leg and fastened it around Wolfram's other ankle, hobbling him.

Wolfram got to his feet and started to shuffle forward, with the intent of determining the best stride for his escape. Powerful arms scooped him up and he glared at Hanreid in a fury.

"What do you think you're doing? Put me down!"

Hanreid firmed his grip and walked to the undulating hole in the air just outside the shelter. "The portal is disorienting enough. With houseki weakening you, it might cause you to stumble and fall, harming you or the baby. You'll be safe if I carry you, and secure." An empty smile spread over his face. "You've been mine for more than a year, my love. I know the measure of your spirit. I will not give you the opportunity to act on whatever plans to escape you've come up with behind those pretty eyes. This is where you stay until I have you in your new suite. It won't be as lavish as the one at the manor, but it will be just as effective. Hold tight to your guts."

And he carried them through the portal.

Wolfram's spinning head and rising bile justified the warning, ample proof that houseki and portal energies did _not_ mix. He held Lyssa tight, squeezed his eyes shut, and kept them that way even after Hanreid stopped walking.

He didn't realize that anything had gone wrong until he heard the man growl.

"Where the hell did you bring us?!"

-o0O0o-

Joy's blank expression changed, sprouting a look that reminded Yuuri of all three of Lady Celi's sons. He'd seen each of them fight, both for real and in training. There always came a point when on some instinctive level, they knew the battle was theirs. It might go on for seconds or minutes longer, but the fight always ended in victory.

"What is it?"

"It is the end of long waiting. Come, young Heika."

She offered her hand and he took it. His feet at last found purchase. She strode swiftly through the blackness that seemed the same in all directions to him as if she walked a well-lit, familiar path. Yuuri jogged at her side and prayed that Wolfram and Lyssa were safe at the end of it.

-o0O0o-

_AN: This is my longest chapter yet! I hope you enjoyed it. I'm typing as fast as I can to get the next chapter up for you. Thanks again for reading! Please review, your feedback is welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated._

_The portal has taken Wolfram, Lyssa, and their captors to an unexpected destination. Yuuri is lost in a realm of darkness and desperately searching for them. And what of Joy and the children? It is the beginning of the end. Be here for __**Chapter 18: From Predators to Prey.**_


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